Harry Putter and the Chamber of Cheesecakes
by Timothy R. O'Donnell
Summary: A hysterical parody of the JK Rowling's Harry Potter Series.


Preview of  
  
HARRY PUTTER  
  
AND THE CHAMBER OF CHEESECAKES  
  
BY  
  
TIMOTHY R. O'DONNELL  
  
CHAPTER ILLUSTRATIONS BY:  
RILEY O'DONNELL, Age 9  
GRIFFIN O'DONNELL, Age 11  
  
COVER ILLUSTRATIONS BY:  
TIMOTHY R. O'DONNELL  
  
Text copyright © 2004 by Timothy R. O'Donnell  
Illustrations by Timothy R. O'Donnell, Riley O'Donnell,  
and Griffin O'Donnell copyright © 2004 by Timothy R. O'Donnell  
All rights reserved.  
  
If you have purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that  
this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."  
  
No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the  
permission of the publisher.  
  
ISBN 1-4116-0688-4  
  
Printed in the U.S.A.  
  
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO  
  
RILEY AND GRIFFIN.  
  
IT'S THEIR STORY TOO.  
  
Contents  
  
One  
  
Cruel Summer ( 1 (  
  
Two  
  
Conspiracy ( 20 (  
  
Three  
  
Abis Mall ( 33 (  
  
Four  
  
Platform (Pi) ( 43 (  
  
Five  
  
On the Hogwashes Express ( 51 (  
  
Six  
  
Dieters Beware! ( 60 (  
  
Seven  
  
Defense Against the Fine Arts ( 76 (  
  
Eight  
  
The Err of Slipperin ( 86 (  
  
Nine  
  
Searching for the Err ( 98 (  
  
Ten  
  
The Quibbage Match ( 107 (  
  
Eleven  
  
The Hospital Wing ( 122 (  
  
Twelve  
  
The Heir of the Err ( 127 (  
  
Thirteen  
  
The Forbidden Forest of Sure Death ( 136 (  
  
Fourteen  
  
Guardians of the Cheesecakes ( 155 (  
  
Fifteen  
  
The Chamber of Cheesecakes ( 167 (  
  
Sixteen  
  
The Hospital Wing Revisted ( 182 (  
  
Seventeen  
  
The Last Day of School ( 186 (  
  
Preview of  
  
HARRY PUTTER  
  
AND THE CHAMBER OF CHEESECAKES  
  
This is a preview of Harry Putter and the Chamber of Cheesecakes. It contains the first six chapters, approximately one third of the book.  
  
If you enjoy it, please purchase the book at www.chamberofcheesecakes.com.  
  
Cruel Summer  
  
While most kids dream about being off from school, and find their summer to rocket by like a cheap amusement park ride, Harry Putter found summer to be the bane of his existence. It was because each summer found him at number 4 Privy Drive, living in the house he grew up in with his Aunt Hachooie, Uncle Vermin, and cousin Mudley, collectively known as the Dirtleys. Even though he was still spending this summer in the same place, it had started off with a bang, and had been like no other summer of his life.  
Each summer Harry was treated like a subspecies. The Dirtleys didn't want Harry in their home, and resented his intrusion in their lives. In fact, from as early as he could remember he slept in the doghouse, literally, leaky roof and all. That is, until the summer after his first year of school. He came home and discovered the doghouse was gone. That summer he lived in the closet under the stairs. And even though Uncle Vermin squeezed a bed in there, Harry liked to sleep under it, rather than in it. He had grown accustomed to sleeping under his first bed ever, at school, for it seemed more like being in his old doghouse, only it didn't leak like his old doghouse. Harry thought he was in heaven, only a heaven where someone was trying to kill him. He thought Uncle Vermin was being nice, but later he found out that Hasbeen threatened to beat the snot out of his Uncle Vermin. Cubious Hasbeen was Harry's first friend ever, mostly because he always threatened to beat the snot out of his Uncle Vermin, but also because, he was the one who came and took Harry off to school changing his life forever. Being 1/32 part giant, Hasbeen was humongously fat and pretty intimidating, so the Dirtleys got rid of the doghouse to make appearances look good from the outside (in case Hasbeen should peek over the fence into the backyard), but not without a general increased resentment that they took out on Harry brutally. It wasn't until after his third year of school, that Harry came home to discover that he had a bedroom of his own. Uncle Vermin explained that the Tax Assessor had come by in the middle of that year, and was going to raise the property taxes because of the "added bedroom." Uncle Vermin had to get rid of Harry's bed to prove that it was really a closet, in order to avoid the additional taxes. So, Harry had his own room that summer, in the guestroom, a real bedroom, upstairs and everything. Of course, he still slept under the bed. But not this summer! This summer he slept in the master bedroom under a king-sized bed. Uncle Vermin and Aunt Hachooie had the guestroom.  
Each summer Harry was treated like a slave. He had a list of chores a mile long. Some were difficult chores like, laundry, dishes, washing cars, scrubbing floors, sweeping chimneys, etc. Others were more menial, such as brushing Mudley's hair, plucking Uncle Vermin's nose hairs, or massaging Aunt Hachooie's bunioned feet.  
He would come home from school and the place would look like it hadn't been cleaned for eight months. It was a pigsty that pigs wouldn't want to live in. (The Dirtleys of course, didn't seem to mind. They were just living up to their disgusting name.) He would spend each day cleaning until night when he would fall asleep exhausted. His only goals were to do a good job and thus avoid kicks to his ribs or the seat of his pants from the Dirtleys. Not this summer! This summer, he did no cleaning or chores.  
Each summer Harry felt like he was slowly starving to death. Uncle Vermin rationed Harry's food and resented the cost of the little he spent to feed Harry. He sure mentioned it a lot. (Harry found it very surprising later in life that food and doghouses were a good deal less expensive than Uncle Vermin had him believe.) Harry was not allowed to be in the kitchen unobserved. All the work he did cooking and cleaning in the kitchen was conducted under the watchful eyes of Aunt Hachooie. He occasionally was able to sneak into the kitchen to steal something to eat, usually a handful of uncooked rice or macaroni. However, he always risked a thorough beating when doing so. This summer, Harry had developed a small spare tire on his slight frame.  
In each of his past summers, Harry was forced to go to therapy sessions with the Dirtley's analyst for his supposed deep-seeded hatred of the Dirtleys. Though he tried several times, he was never able to convince his therapist that it was really the reverse, that the Dirtley's hated him. Nor did the analyst believe the fantastic stories that Harry told him: that he spent his early years sleeping in the doghouse; that he had a list of chores a mile long, or that he was being slowly starved to death– "Just look at me, I'm skin and bones!" Harry never mentioned any of his many adventures, or anything that really took place at school or else he would have been thrown in a straight jacket in a padded room. Once he had accidentally mentioned that his food talked to him, but was able to convince the therapist that he was only joking. This summer there were no therapy sessions.  
Sure, this summer had started out exciting enough, but despite all the improvements, Harry Putter found himself bored. Today was too muggy outside, so Harry stayed in his room where the window air conditioner hummed and kept life bearable, another improvement realized only this summer.  
He looked out of the window of his bedroom and sighed. All the neighborhood kids stayed far away from 4 Privy Drive even though Uncle Vermin had a swimming pool installed in the backyard in April. They all had known for a long time that the weird kid with the L-shaped scar on his forehead lived there. Stay away from Harry Putter! It wouldn't have mattered anyway; the neighborhood kids were a bunch of morons the likes of which only his cousin Mudley could stomach. In fact, many of the sorry lot looked up to Mudley for leadership, a sorry lot indeed. That was fine with Harry, he wanted someone of intelligence to talk to, Ron, Hermione, heck he would settle for Neville Largebottom. But no one interesting was around, the only sign of life was the mailman heading from mailbox to mailbox delivering the mail, or as those in the wizarding community referred to it, the muddle mail. Muddle being the word they use for the poor humans that muddled through life without the use of magic. Wizards of course had a much more sophisticated mail delivery system.  
Had the mailman looked up, he would have seen a skinny teenager with neat black hair and unibrow, wearing glasses that had been makeshift repaired with masking tape staring out of the window back down at him. Harry's hair was neat because he had Mudley brush it fifty-five strokes three times each day; he had a unibrow because it hurt too much when he had Mudley pluck the hairs growing between his eyebrows; and his glasses had been sat on by Hedbutt, his pet goat, that he loved more than anyone else in the world, besides himself.  
But even Hedbutt was nowhere to be seen. Harry sighed again, flopped on the bed, and rummaged through a pile of comics. He considered the quibbage comic, The Adventures of the Furious Whacker, but settled on his copy of the latest Dr. Nova comic. However, he found himself only leafing through it with disinterest, he had read it three times already. He lay down on the bed and his eyes wandered around the room until he found himself staring at the Loose Cannons poster on the wall. The Loose Cannons were his favorite professional quibbage team. He sighed. The pool was boring, the neighborhood kids were boring, Nintendo was boring, even the comics were boring.  
Even though he kept telling himself that it was the best summer of his entire life, and he had said so a half dozen times in letters to Ron and Hermione, who was he kidding? This summer was still the bane of his existence. It turned out that the ill treatment he had received from the Dirtleys was better than the constant boredom he endured this summer. What he really wished for was to be back at school, and he had a really bad school year last year, too. (No wonder everyone thought he had a severe case of stupid in the head.) However, school didn't start for three more days. And while Harry was happiest at school, it wasn't really his friends there that made him happy, certainly not the books and classes, after five years, six if you counted preschool, the magic held little magic for him. It wasn't even playing quibbage that made him happy. What Harry really wished for when he wished he were back at school, was for an adventure.  
His protruding belly gave a pang, and Harry remembering the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, decided to go downstairs and get a snack. He was quickly disappointed to find the empty package of Reese's contributing to an overall filthy kitchen counter stacked with used dishes and cups, an empty box of cereal, and a jug of milk someone had left out of the fridge all day, all on top of layers of other garbage. He picked up the wrapper and angrily thought to himself, "Mudley!" As he headed down the hallway past the closet under the stairs, and into the living room, he pulled out his magic wand and yelled, "Mudley Dirtley! You scumbucket! Where are you?"  
In the living room, he spotted his Aunt Hachooie; she sat on the blue sofa with the doilies on the arms, near the air conditioner, frozen in the act of fanning herself, and with a look of fear and loathing on her gaunt face. Aunt Hachooie was a stern woman, tall and thin. She was very old fashioned in her thoughts and her appearance. She looked like she would keep a house just so. Not so, above all, she was a Dirtley, and that means trash. On top of that, she had grown accustomed to having Harry do all the real work keeping the house in order for so many years. Furthermore, she was used to commanding the Dirtley household like a tyrant, though Uncle Vermin didn't realize that he was not the one in charge. Harry immediately commanded her, "Go buy some more Reese's Peanut Butter Cups!" He jabbed his wand repeatedly, shooting off a few bolts of electricity from its tip to emphasize his words, and to get her moving, right quick.  
"But ...," said Aunt Hachooie, who was interrupted by the furiously crackling electrical bolts jolting her feet until her graying brown hair stood on end.  
"Now!" shouted Harry. With several short cries, she danced from the room, out the front door, and ran to the car.  
A whimper could be heard in the suddenly quiet living room. Harry turned and noticed Mudley's fat butt sticking out from behind the coffee table. Mudley chanced a peek over the edge of the table and quickly pulled his head back down as Harry set the coffee table ablaze with a fireball blast coming from his wand. Harry smiled with satisfaction at the piglike squeal that Mudley made. Mudley Dirtley was a big kid, who liked to throw his weight around. He had grown up teasing and bullying Harry. But ever since Harry had started using magic, he had moved on to terrorizing easier prey in the neighborhood. Mudley was a pig. In fact, there was pig blood in Mudley from his father's side of the family visible in his beady eyes, snout, and jowls.  
Just then, a letter dropped through the slot in the front door. Harry knew right away that this letter was not the muddle mail. He opened the front door to confirm his suspicion, and saw the young goat that had delivered it scampering away. He sent a lightning bolt after the goat but missed, Aunt Hachooie leaving in the Dirtley's car, a mini Cooper, got in the way. He picked up the letter and tossed it on the burning coffee table where it quickly shriveled to ashes in the blaze. He had gotten so many of these letters so far this summer, (in reality a hundred and fifty seven) that he could recite them by heart.  
  
"The use of all methods of magical incantation, enchantment, and summoning by any 1st through 6th year students outside of Hogwashes school for Witchcraft and Wizardry is strictly forbidden and most definitely not allowed. Desist immediately in using magic in the presence of muddles.  
  
The Department of Wizard Affairs"  
  
Harry scoffed at the idea that some silly rule that was meant for unimportant children, who might do something dangerous using magic without supervision, might somehow apply to the great Harry Putter. Preposterous!  
  
The warning notice also reminded Harry of the excitement of the very beginning of summer. There had been another big trial, Harry's second. (In his first trial Harry got off using a temporary insanity plea.) The Ministry of Magic really thought they had him this time, when he began using his magic on his first day back from school to educate the Dirtleys on what Harry called the New House Order.  
The Ministry had tried to seize his wand that day, but Harry wouldn't relinquish it. He sent the Ministry's lackey scurrying back to the Ministry without his own wand, let alone Harry's. Next, the Ministry sent over an Auditor, a wizard who is adept in the magical field of Accounting. An Auditor uses accounting practices to stun their quarry, until dumbfounded, they submit to paying taxes, interest penalties, and worst of all are beguiled into letting the Auditor prepare their financial and tax reports. Harry was greatly relieved when the Ministry sent over Kingsley Shuckthecorn to audit him. Kingsley was a member of The Order of the Harry Putter Fan Club, and according to club bylaws, was not allowed to take Harry's wand. Kingsley was forced to resign his lucrative Ministry position at once, and immediately helped Harry to defend himself against any further Ministry attempts.  
Caramelly Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was furious! He hated Harry Putter. Harry was alive, famous, and loved, while his own son, Maple- Walnut, had died while imprisoned in Azcabanana, notoriously infamous. He wanted Harry to die likewise. So next, he ordered a hundred of The Demented to bring Harry and the rogue Auditor Shuckthecorn in. The Demented wear black robes, which according to all rules automatically makes them bad guys. Many that they visit become uncomfortable when they notice their skeletal hands and the black hoods that hide their numbskulls. Their presence cause a variety of reactions from those whom they visit, ranging from hysterical screaming to hysterical laughter, to hiding under the sofa. An awful lot of them start a sentence that begins, "What the..." Many have grim feelings, or feelings of regret when they notice the large scythes that all The Demented carry. Some get a feeling their time has come to an end, and see their lives flash before their eyes. Some die right then and there. But few know what makes them really scary. The kiss of The Demented causes premature hair loss.  
When Caramelly Fudge ordered The Demented to bring Harry and Kingsley in, it was because he remembered how much Harry feared them. Harry was very fond of his lustrous full head of hair, because he felt it was his best feature. However, Caramelly Fudge had forgotten that Harry had already overcome his fear and defeated The Demented on several occasions. Harry knew how to patronize them, and The Demented could not stand to be patronized, it was their only weakness. When they showed up, Harry dismissed them with a wave of his hand, not acknowledge them or their scariness for a second. They left feeling very dejected.  
Caramelly Fudge was not finished yet. He cleared his schedule, and ordered a trial for that Friday. Harry Putter was going to face the music, and it would be a full trial, with a bench of nine judges. He, himself, would oversee the whole thing as the Chief Justice. By Thursday, the whole Ministry of Magic was practically patting themselves on the back, with the exception of Arthur Cheesley, the father of Harry's best friend, Ron, and a big Harry Putter fan. (Arthur Cheesley had a huge collection of Harry Putter apparel and toys.) When word of the trial reached him in the Department of Muddle Artifacts, he immediately rushed over to the Dirtley House. Apparently, his way of keeping Harry calm about the trial was to pace around saying over and over, "What are we going to do?" No matter how many times Harry told him not to worry about it, he just couldn't stop. Harry finally had to call Mrs. Cheesley to take him home.  
The rest of the ministry was happily excited; they were finally going to nail that impudent delinquent, Harry Putter on something. They didn't really care what it was, just as long as they were able to lock him away in Azcabanana Prison, the prison for wizards.  
When Friday came, Caramelly Fudge was beaming with delight as he donned his judges robes. It was going to be a great day! When the court bailiff announced him, he marshaled into the courtroom pompously. He took his seat among the eight other judges, all his puppets, and smiled wickedly down from the ridiculously high bench at the boy. A good sign that the boy showed up, he had secretly been wondering what he would do if he hadn't. Better still, the boy was alone, as planned. Harry had shown up because he was bored, and thought the trial might pass the day. He had heard prisoners get three square meals a day, and he found it amusing that he was tempted to try it out. He seriously doubted that Azcabanana Prison could be any worse than living with the Dirtleys. But in all seriousness, he doubted that he'd have the kind of adventures that he really enjoyed at school, if he were imprisoned, so he had no intention of allowing them to throw him in the wizard jail.  
The trial was being held in the same courtroom that his previous trial had taken place in, however, it was even dustier than last time. He doubted it had been used since. He sat in his chair feeling very small in front of the row of judges that stared down at him like an accusation.  
Judge Fudge began, "Mr. Putter, I notice that your counsel is absent today, where's Grumblesnore?"  
"I dunno," shrugged Harry.  
Fudge tittered to himself, for he knew very well where Elvis Grumblesnore was. Professor Grumblesnore, the schoolmaster of Hogwashes, was on the sixth floor of that very building. He would be answering a barrage of Auditor questions for the rest of the day. Fudge had arranged the whole thing. Grumblesnore won't get you off the hook this time!  
"Oh, that's too bad, he frowned, "but we can't reschedule the trial, we're very busy you know."  
To this comment Perky Cheesley, the court transcriptionist, laughed until his nose turned brown. Perky Cheesley was the estranged brother of Harry's friend Ron. He was also Caramelly Fudge's adoring underling. Perky Cheesley was a huge moron in many ways and somehow had gotten hooked on Caramelly Fudge, and wanted nothing more than to have Caramelly Fudge like him, and if that meant hating Harry Putter too, so be it. Perky could do that. His father, Arthur Cheesley had disowned him for it. To Arthur, liking Caramelly Fudge was bad enough, but disliking Harry Putter well, that was going against the family! In fact, Arthur wished Harry was family, almost as much as he wished Perky wasn't. The whole Cheesley family are card-carrying members of The Order of the Harry Putter Fan Club, except Perky. The rest of the judges continued to scowl down at Harry as if he was a war criminal.  
"Let's see," said Fudge as though he weren't intimately familiar with the case, "you have been sent, oh dear, how many? I can't count them all. Forty-seven warning notices for the use of magic by a sixth year student, and in the presence of muddles!" He put a note of shocking appall in his voice. "How can this be, school has been out only one week! What's this? Refused to relinquish his wand! Tsk, Tsk! Attacked ministry personnel! Subverted ministry personnel! And patronized The Demented! Harry Putter, have you no shame? What ever has become of the good little boy, I once knew? It can't be true! There must be some mistake! Eh, how do you plead?"  
"Not Guilty."  
"What?" Fudge let slip. He couldn't believe this hoodlum had the audacity to plead Not Guilty.  
"Not Guilty," Harry repeated a good deal louder. After a moment to collect his thoughts, Fudge said, "Right, well, let's get this young man sworn in shall we?"  
The bailiff had Harry put his hand in the Thumbscrew of Truth or Ulp. Then asked Harry, "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you or else, Ulp?"  
Harry was nervous now, his voice cracked when he said, "I-I do." The magic thumbscrew began to glow with a soft blue light, and rotated to a point of discomfort. Harry knew that any lies would cause the Thumbscrew of Truth or Ulp to tighten unmercifully; the pain would be excruciating, and the lie would be obvious to all who viewed his writhing pain. Harry had no choice but to tell the truth.  
Caramelly Fudge smiled his wicked smile again, and began. "You are Harry Putter of 4 Privy Drive?"  
"Y-y-yes."  
"And you are a student at Hogwashes School for Witchcraft and Wizardry?"  
"Yes."  
"And how long has school been in recess this summer?"  
"Since last Friday. One week."  
"And since last Friday, have you used magic?" Fudge peered closely at Harry.  
"Yes."  
"Ah ha! And how many times have you used magic?"  
"I don't know, dozens of times." To Harry's relief the thumbscrew didn't automatically tighten when he didn't know the precise answer, just as long as he told the truth he would be fine.  
"And have you received any warning notices regarding the use of magic during your recess?'  
"Yes."  
"And you understand what those warnings mean?"  
"Yes."  
"Oh really? It doesn't seem to me you did!" Fudge looked around the bench, and received the laughter from this statement that he felt it deserved.  
"So, after receiving the warnings, you continued to perform magic? Is that correct?"  
"Yes."  
"A total of forty seven times this past week?"  
Harry was worried that this question was a trap. He had lost count of how many times he had used magic on the Dirtleys, and was indeed a bit surprised that it was so often. If he said yes, and it was the wrong amount, would the Thumbscrew tighten? Drops of sweat began to bead on his forehead. He replied, "If you say so, Sir."  
"Yes, I do say so. You received forty-seven warning notices, and ignored them all! In fact, didn't a ministry authority come to collect your wand?"  
"Yes."  
"And did you use magic on him?"  
"Yes."  
"Instead of relinquishing your own wand, you captured his, did you not?"  
"I did."  
"And you sent him packing didn't you?"  
"I did."  
"Shameful! Is that how you treat representatives of the ministry?"  
"Yes, I did."  
"And afterward, the Ministry of Magic sent an Auditor to collect your wand, did you use magic on him?"  
"No."  
Fudge paused a bit confused. He expected that the Thumbscrew of Truth or Ulp would have the boy writhing for his last answer. "Bailiff, is that Thumbscrew in working order?"  
The bailiff stepped forward, and said, "It passed its morning check, was working fine."  
"Test it again," Fudge ordered.  
The bailiff removed the Thumbscrew of Truth or Ulp from Harry, and placed it on his own hand. "I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth or else, Ulp."  
Then the bailiff braced himself and said, "I love my mother-in-law!" He was quickly thrashing around in agony. In a panic, he began shouting, "I hate her! I can't stand her. I hate my mother-in-law!" His pain subsided.  
"It's workin' just fine!" The bailiff removed the device, and swore Harry back in.  
"Shall we continue?" Fudge cleared his voice. "The Ministry of Magic sent an Auditor to collect your wand, did you use magic on him?"  
"No."  
Fudge frowned, disappointed. He did not know how Harry could have subverted the Auditor without magic, but, no matter, he had Harry Putter right where he wanted him. The boy had admitted under oath to using magic forty-seven times during the first week of summer recess! It was an open and shut case. He would wrap it up very soon.  
"Fine. The ministry then sent The Demented to collect you and your wand, did you use magic on The Demented?"  
"No."  
Fudge scowled. "So, you have admitted to using magic forty-seven times this week! Yet, for some reason, you chose to plea, 'Not Guilty!' Were you confused about the meaning of Not Guilty?"  
"No, Sir."  
"Quite right! You pleaded Not Guilty because you thought you could weasel your way out it, like you did last trial!"  
"No, Sir."  
"Well then, would you like to change your plea to Guilty then?"  
"No, Sir."  
Caramelly Fudge rapped his gavel and stood up. He was infuriated. "What are you saying Harry Putter? That you are Not Guilty after you have already admitted in front of all of us that you are!"  
"No, Sir."  
"'No, Sir?'"  
"The law states, 'The use of all methods of magical incantation, enchantment, and summoning by any 1st through 6th year students outside of Hogwashes School for Witchcraft and Wizardry is strictly forbidden and most definitely not allowed,'" quoted Harry. "However, this rule doesn't apply to me."  
"No one is above the law, Harry Putter!" Fudge raised his voice. "I am very disappointed in you, boy. Just because you are a celebrity of sorts, does not mean you will be treated differently in the eyes of this court! Justice is blind!"  
"That's not what I mean, Sir."  
"No? But you say this rule doesn't apply to you? How so?"  
"The law applies to students from their 1st year through their 6th year. After six years of school, any student is old enough to use magic at home. In fact, most students, after six years, are encouraged to begin to use magic to help out around the house, doing dishes, cooking, straightening up."  
"But the school records show that you will be entering your sixth year this autumn, Harry. You just took your G.O.A.T. tests, did you not?"  
"Yes, Sir."  
"See then, you have only completed five years of school! I'm sorry Harry, this law does apply to you, and ignorance is no excuse!"  
"Not so, Sir, I have completed six years of school, if you count preschool, which of course I always do."  
At this comment, the eight judges began to whisper to each other excitedly. Fudge rapped his gavel for silence.  
"Silly boy. Preschool doesn't count!"  
"Yes, it does."  
"Preschool is a farce, Harry, you only go to preschool when your parents don't want you around. Which explains why YOU attended preschool, doesn't it."  
"Sir, my parents were dead, it's my aunt and uncle who didn't want me around."  
"That's besides the point, no one counts preschool. Preschool doesn't count!"  
"Sir, if you check the law, nowhere does it say that preschool doesn't count. Furthermore, I can prove that it does count."  
"You can?"  
"Yes."  
  
And even though, the Ministry tried very hard to not count preschool, it didn't take much to legally prove that preschool does, in fact, count. Harry was able to prove that the most important lessons in life are in fact taught in preschool, such as: if it's anything good, the answer is "No;" adding water balloons to any given situation is generally a bad idea; girls under 12 are icky and have cooties; pants are generally not considered optional; and that the world would be a better place if we all took a nap in the afternoon.  
Furthermore, Hogwashes records, that were conveniently in the building as Grumblesnore was attempting to answer the Auditor's inquisition, clearly showed that the school charged the same rate for preschool as it did any other year of school. Harry proved that preschool counted from a learning perspective, it counted from a business perspective, and it was not legally different from any other year of school. The Ministry of Magic had no recourse but to let Harry go, and rewrite the laws, which would take a very long time, as the Department of Wizard Affairs is in many ways slower than the British parliamentary system. Why it was almost the end of summer, and they still hadn't managed to stop sending the automatic warning notices by goat post.  
Harry had foiled them yet again.  
  
He snapped out of his reverie, Mudley was gone. Harry wasn't feeling quite as angry anyway. Uncle Vermin had come into the living room, waddling in from the kitchen with the fire extinguisher. Uncle Vermin was a large neckless man, with a purple complexion that made him look like he was long overdue for a massive heart attack. He was surprisingly calm considering his coffee table was ablaze. Harry almost didn't notice the peanut butter cup sticking out of Uncle Vermin's mouth, –almost. As Uncle Vermin let loose with the fire extinguisher, Harry gave him a kick in the pants. "Eat the last Reese's? I oughta get my friends over here to teach you a lesson, you fat lard! You remember my friends, don't you?" Harry was of course referring to his friends in The Order of the Harry Putter Fan Club, who had escorted him home after school last June. They had given Uncle Vermin a stern warning not to mistreat Harry. There was Mad Dog Hooty, Frommundigus Filcher, Kingsley Shuckthecorn, Wrestlemania Trunks, Rhomulus Loopin, and Fabulous Butterpants. All diehard Harry Putter fans, they spent most of their time discussing and debating the trivial details of Harry Putter's many adventures, and knew everything about Harry. They were very useful at times and completely overprotective of their idol. All Harry had to do was send a note by goat, and his friends would storm the house, and give his Uncle the thrashing of his life. He wasn't sure that they wouldn't end up killing Uncle Vermin. Harry didn't want that, and really hadn't needed their help so far this summer.  
"Oh, yes, Harry, but I ...." started Uncle Vermin.  
"You know the one with that evil eyeball? He's an escaped killer and head of the wizard mafia." Harry embellished Mad Dog Hooty's reputation. In reality, Mad Dog Hooty did have an evil eyeball, was the world's greatest Auditor, and had the scars to prove it, though now he was retired.  
"Yes, but ...." started Uncle Vermin again.  
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call my friends here to lay some Serious Smack down on you!" said Harry getting himself worked up again.  
  
Serious Smack was his Uncle and godfather. A pang of regret seized Harry, using his dead uncle's name, for he had only met his uncle once, briefly. Harry had wanted desperately to get to know his Uncle Serious, however, his uncle seemed to desperately not want to get to know Harry. He managed to escape Harry the one time Harry met him, had eluded his every attempt to meet him after that, and had unfortunately died recently. All Harry had to remind him of the uncle he never knew was his John Deere 2000 lawnmower. Serious Smack had given it to Harry as a bribe. He sent it to Harry one Christmas with a note asking Harry to take the lawnmower, leave him alone, and stop trying to find him. Harry couldn't help himself; he kept the lawnmower and kept trying to locate his uncle. In the end, Serious Smack died suddenly in a bizarre circus tragedy while trying to escape from Harry. It was all Harry's fault that his uncle was dead. If only he hadn't pushed, hadn't persistently kept trying to find him, he would still be alive today. However, Uncle Vermin didn't know he was dead, and was more scared of Serious Smack then all Harry's other weird friends combined. Serious Smack was a clown, and Uncle Vermin was very afraid of clowns.  
  
"There is a whole 'nother package of Reese's in the cupboard," replied Uncle Vermin both a little smug and a little afraid that Harry might be insulted by his smugness.  
"Oh," he blinked repeatedly. "Well then, bring me some and some chocolate milk, too."  
  
A little later Harry was outside relaxing by the pool in a chaise lounge. He ate his snack while reading his quibbage comic again. He noticed the ad in it for the latest Spiderman comic, and became annoyed. It reminded him that he didn't get the subscription to Spiderman that he had asked for as a birthday present. It was just one more thing that the Dirtleys did wrong this summer. When Aunt Hachooie came outside with a new package of peanut butter cups, she had sweat on her brow. Harry said, "Thanks, can you be a dear and run out and get me the latest Spiderman comic? It just came out yesterday."  
Aunt Hachooie sighed as she headed back out again, reciting her mantra to herself, "Only three more days.... only three more days...."  
Harry decided to go inside and play some Nintendo. On the way in, another goat showed up, this one was much bigger and older. The goat had a letter in its mouth, which Harry grabbed, thinking, "What now?"  
He noticed the official Hogwashes seal and opened it immediately. His jaw dropped as he read it. Finally saying aloud in disbelief to no one but himself, "School has been canceled?"  
  
Conspiracy  
  
"Something can't be right. Hogwashes can't close!"  
What could have happened to cause school to be closed this year? Was Grumblesnore in trouble? Was Caramelly Fudge somehow behind this? Harry still couldn't believe it. No matter how much better this summer had been compared to every summer he had ever had before, no matter how much fun it was torturing the Dirtleys both physically and mentally, he was still greatly looking forward to going back to school, seeing his friends, just being where he belonged, and of course having another adventure. He and his fans expected no less. He folded the letter and put it in the back pocket of his jeans, which were incidentally about four inches shorter than they should have been, and decided that if it was still there later, then this couldn't be just a bad dream.  
In the den, he absentmindedly turned on the television. Some commercial was on for breakfast cereal. He switched on the Nintendo, changed the channel to 4 and started playing Zombie King II, Die Again Evil Dead. Suddenly, the same stupid elf hawking breakfast cereal was there again in the middle of his game. When most commercials had music and lots of loud talking, this one was strangely silent. All he could hear was the background music to Zombie King II. He took a closer look. It looked a lot like Bobby the elf, but wearing a box of cereal instead of clothes. Elves naturally didn't wear clothes, clothes being a human convention. However, those that served humans usually attempt to attire in something, as humans tend to stare, making them feel naked when they are naked. Elves typically are not very particular in what they choose to wear. Kitchen- Elves generally wear empty sacks of flour, Laboratory-Elves sometimes wear rubber gloves, and Shoemaking-Elves typically wear old socks. However, Elves do wear uniforms if required by their masters, and a lot of them do like to have their elven servants dressed in a manner that reflects tastefully on the households they serve.  
"Is this some kind of commercial?" Harry asked perplexed.  
The elf in the cereal box timidly spoke up, "Hello, Harry Putter, Sir. This is a public service announcement. Ahem, Hogwashes School of Witchcraft and Wizardry regrets to inform you that school is canceled until further notice."  
It was Bobby the elf.  
  
Three years ago, Harry had accidentally gotten Bobby enslaved. There are very few jobs that Free-Elves are willing to do, and Bobby had been very fortunate to be happily employed by the Maldoy family. Respectable wizardly households are difficult to find, and the Maldoys are highly regarded as one of the best, if not the best family to work for. Free- elves are not paid as part of their employment as they have no use for wizard currency. Elves value magical power, and the Maldoys had it. They are one of the most powerful wizard families in terms of magic, and thus the most enviable of families for elves to work for. The Cheesleys, on the other hand, attract no elves to their household, as their magical power is even collectively rather, well let's just say, it's a good thing their house has electricity. The long-term proximity to a good magical family creates a symbiosis from which both the family and the Free-Elf benefit greatly. The Free-Elf benefits by absorbing magical power from those he serves, while his service, in return makes the family's magical equipment, laboratory equipment, and magical devices operate smoothly. The wizard family with a Free-Elf servant finds it easier to concentrate, their potions are stronger, and their magic more efficient through the elf's freely given service. Thus, Bobby was greatly respected among the Free- Elves, and his opinion was highly sought after, especially regarding matters of good taste, particularly regarding clothing. But Bobby was no longer a Free-Elf, thanks to none other than Harry Putter.  
The sudden event that enslaved Bobby happened accidentally during Harry's second year at Hogwashes, right after he had found the Chamber of Frozen Dairy Desserts and rescued those who had gotten brainfreezed including his good friend Hermione, but most of all Ginny Cheesley. Ginny, the sister of Harry's good friend Ron, had been kidnapped and taken to the Chamber of Frozen Dairy Desserts by the persevering spirit of Tom Riddly. Harry found the hidden chamber, defeated a giant mildew stain, and prevented Riddly from coming back to life by destroying the only copy of his Frozen Dairy Dessert Cookbook.  
At the conclusion of his adventure, Harry's feet had gotten wet in the fight versus the giant mildew stain, he was after all knee deep in mildew. When he slogged into Elvis Grumblesnore's office to return a few bleach- based household cleaners that he had borrowed during his battle, he found himself interrupting a conversation with Grumblesnore and Luscious Maldoy, who was there along with his Free-Elf servant, Bobby. Luscious was there in the capacity of chairman of the Hogwashes Board of Education. It was therefore his duty to relieve Grumblesnore of his position as the school's headmaster. Grumblesnore was being relieved of his duties because of the danger the Chamber of Frozen Dairy Deserts represented to the student body, and most of all for his ineptitude in locating the chamber and closing it forever. That's when Harry informed them both that he had found the Chamber and closed it forever, and presented the tattered remains of the Frozen Dairy Dessert Cookbook as evidence. Luscious Maldoy was quite miffed. Harry thought he was doing a great service, saving his good friend and mentor, Grumblesnore's job, but Grumblesnore was quite miffed too. The idea of an early retirement was very appealing to him, especially in light of all his recent troubles, the beginning of which coincided with Harry's arrival at Hogwashes.  
It was at this point that Harry, could no longer stand the wetness of his socks and inconsiderately removed them. Well, on a good day, Harry's feet stank; on a bad day, his feet were like a stink bomb that induced coughing, dizziness, and watery eyes. That day, the dampness of his shoes along with the giant mildew stain remnants that had seeped into his shoes and socks somehow reacted very unfavorably with Harry's feet. When he removed his shoes, his socks went off like a concussion grenade, sending a shockwave through the building. Grumblesnore and Luscious were stunned. Bobby went into immediate cardiac arrest. The elf was going to kick the bucket, when Grumblesnore scooped him up, and fled for St. Mongo's Hospital for the Magically Afflicted. (This was no job for the school nurse, Ms. Pomfrite.) How Grumblesnore was able to break his momentary shock and to summon the stamina to get Bobby out of there and away, is a mystery of superhuman effort. He collapsed a moment later there in the hospital. By comparison, Luscious Maldoy fell unconscious and was not rescued until emergency workers in Hazmat suits arrived. Harry, of course, was immune to his own stench.  
But that course of events, in a nutshell, is what made Bobby a slave. For elves, it is no small thing, the act of saving their lives, as it is with most humans. It is their custom, when someone saves their lives, to devote the remainder of their lives from that moment forward to their rescuer as his slave. There are countless examples, such as St. Nicholas when he rescued an entire village of elves from being bulldozed by the East Millstone Condominium Construction Company, or Brian Keebler, the lumberjack who rescued a whole tree full of elves from a woodpecker one day.  
Ever since that fateful day, Bobby has served Grumblesnore faithfully as his slave. He adores Grumblesnore as his savior, and would gladly give his own life in exchange for Grumblesnore's life, if the opportunity ever presented itself. However, should he ever actually save Grumblesnore's life, he would then become a Free-Elf once again.  
Ever since that fateful day, Bobby hated Harry Putter. In the three years since, Bobby had made countless failed attempts on Harry's life, and he often conspired with others who were also trying to kill Harry. Bobby pretended to be Harry's friend in order to lure him into traps, as he had tried on several occasions. After several attempts to kill Harry failed miserably, yet clearly involved the elf, it became suddenly clear to Harry that Bobby was trying to kill him. Harry couldn't blame him, he felt terribly responsible about Bobby's enslavement even though it had been an accident. So, Harry never let on that he knew Bobby was in fact his enemy. He pretended to be friends with Bobby, just as Bobby pretended to be his friend.  
It was bad enough that Harry was responsible for Bobby's enslavement, yet there was one other important incident that caused Bobby to hate Harry Putter even more. Harry was also responsible for one other terrible sin that Bobby couldn't forgive. Harry had gotten Bobby's elf friend, Binky, fired from her noble position as the Free-Elf servant to none other than the reputable Bartimous Grouch. Though she remained a Free-Elf, she was shamed. Binky was perhaps looked upon as even lower than a Slave-Elf, because she had gotten sacked, something that hadn't happened to a Free-Elf in over three thousand years.  
It happened two years ago at the World Tea Cup Tournament. Bobby had put another of his schemes into effect by launching a Fungus Eater mark into the sky. The terrifying mark, a mushroom, which had not been seen for years, indicated that the Fungus Eaters were back. It had the same effect on the various privileged members of the wizarding community there at the World Tea Cup Tournament that launching a firework into the sky indicating that Disco was alive and well today would have on a crowd of muddles at a sporting event, –mass hysteria. People were fleeing for their lives. However, there were many brave people out searching the grounds and nearby woods looking for the culprit, including Harry.  
As it turned out, Harry was the first one to find Bobby holding the bazooka-like firework launcher. Harry asked Bobby what he had. Bobby lied, explaining that he had found it in the grass, and handed it innocently to Harry. Bobby, let out an evil laugh, then quickly disappeared, leaving Harry literally holding the smoking gun. It looked like Harry was going to take the blame for the whole incident; he was holding the launcher, his fingerprints were on the gun. He had to do something fast, before he was found, or else Bobby would have succeeded in framing Harry for the despicable deed. Harry would be thrown in Azcabanana Prison to languish miserably the rest of his life, surrounded by The Demented. Harry heard voices coming his way, and panicking, he threw the launcher over some nearby bushes, where it landed on Bobby's elf friend, Binky's head. Binky crawled out of the bushes holding the launcher right in front of her master, Bartimous Grouch, Arthur Cheesley, Caramelly Fudge, Harry and two Auditors. It was Binky who ended up taking the fall, and losing her desirable position and her respectability. Ironically, Bobby blamed that no good, tricky, Harry (he'll pay for this!) Putter, for the whole incident.  
  
"Come on, Bobby, school is canceled this year? You can't expect me to believe this, do you?" asked Harry.  
"Oh darn, you figured out Bobby's little trick, school isn't really closed, but there is something that is very serious, Sir! Bobby, at great risk to his own life, is here to warn you of great danger!" said Bobby lowering his voice, and pressing his nose against the inside glass of the television screen. He seemed afraid someone might overhear him, but Harry rolled his eyes, he knew that it was all an act. Bobby was setting up his next bumbling attempt on Harry's life.  
"Now? I'm in the middle of killing zombies, that is, if you don't mind getting out of the way!" replied Harry starting to get annoyed.  
"Oh, no, Sir! You are in immense danger," whispered the elf.  
"Don't be silly, I think I can take the Zombie King down."  
"That's not what I mean, Sir! Bobby means if you go to school this year, you will surely perish!" said Bobby dramatically.  
Harry flopped back on the couch and scoffed, "The past five years, six if you count preschool, which I always do, someone has tried to kill me, and I've escaped every time. So what's so dangerous this time?"  
"You are in far greater danger this time, Sir! This time there is a conspiracy to kill you. Everyone wants you dead!" exaggerated the cereal box clad elf.  
"Come on, Bobby! Everyone? What about all my friends? They don't want me dead."  
"They will after they find out you cheated to win all those quibbage matches!"  
Harry jumped to his feet. "What! I never cheated!"  
"Yes, that's true, Sir, but once they read those letters saying that you cheated, they will . . ."  
Harry interrupted, "Letters? What letters?"  
"The letters Bobby sent out last night to your friends and teachers. They should have received them this morning, Sir."  
Infuriated, Harry put his foot through the television into Bobby's face with a satisfying crash of broken glass and crunch of broken tooth. The elf groaned, "Ow, thank you, Sir, I deserve that and more for the terrible things Bobby has done. Please do it again!" This time he was ready to catch Harry's foot and bite his ankle.  
"But why? Why did you send those letters?" asked Harry angrily.  
"Well, as I said, Sir, there is a conspiracy to do you in this year, once and for all."  
"So who is the head of this conspiracy? And why are you helping them?" demanded Harry.  
Oh, I cannot name him, Sir!" replied the elf.  
"Just as I thought! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Smelled! Lord Moldyfart!" deduced Harry.  
  
Lord Moldyfart was the nemesis of Harry Putter. He was his enemy even before Harry was born. All because of a dreadful prophecy that Moldyfart had learned about back when he was known as young Tom Farisol Riddly. Tom found the prophecy when he opened a Chinese fortune cookie at the New China Kitchen in South London. He cracked it open and read his fortune, "Someone in your future will steal your heart." Tom who was always paranoid, freaked out. He clenched the tiny slip of paper in his fist and thought, "Who is this mysterious enemy, and why would he try to steal my heart, especially when I'm not finished with it!" It made him furious.  
Tom Riddly used this prophesized enemy as motivation to become the most powerful and ruthless sorcerer he could be. When his future enemy arrived, he would be ready. It became his life long obsession. He made two vows. The first, that when the one who would try to steal his heart came, he wouldn't give the poor fool a chance, he would tear him apart. He would not allow laws or emotions to get in the way of his defenses. He would break the wizarding laws, use unforgettable curses, if they would give him an advantage over his unknown foe. The second, that he wouldn't eat Chinese food ever again.  
Over the years, his heart became a stone, such that none could steal it, no seed of love could find purchase to grow. For he had no thoughts of love, his burning desire was to be ready when his enemy arrived. He could harbor no weakness, for his enemy might use it against him. Love was for the weak. He closed his heart to all humankind, for, his enemy could be anyone, and so he trusted no one. Incidentally, he had ignored a young girl at the library, who had flirted with him to get his attention on several occasions. Had his obsession not been all encompassing, he might have noticed her, she may have even stolen his heart, as it was, she ended up marrying Arthur Cheesley. The young girl in the library was Molly Cheesley, and to this day, has a slight crush on Tom Riddly that she has kept secret all these years.  
Riddly, not satisfied with his expertise in standard magic and even illegal magic, eventually began to practice dark magic, and learned everything he could. In his malignant studies, he did his own research and taught himself, until his understanding surpassed the dark knowledge of any living wizard. In doing so, he became the most powerful wizard alive, but at great cost, for had given up his own humanity.  
During his research he had consorted with penguins, demons, and llamas and learned what he could from them, and he made some deals that were costly. The unholy pacts he made changed his true form. He used his sorcery to hide the creature that he had become, so that he still looked like a man, but was something else entirely, something without a heart, something that couldn't die, for no man knew the one word of power that would change him back to his true form where he would be vulnerable to death. Only one demon knew the word, and Tom destroyed that demon and ate its soul. He was more than the most terrible wizard the world had ever known; he was invincible.  
His true countenance was a horror that men shrank from. Why even the odors he made were powerful enough to kill flowers and small animals, and strike fear into any living man. He had reached the pinnacle of his power and repulsion. It was at this point that he decided to rearrange the letters of his name, Tom Farisol Riddly, to spell "I is Lord Moldyfart." It was a name more suited to a being of his awfulness, a name that people would fear to speak, lest the Fart Lord harken to their unwanted call, and answer like a spoken doom.  
He was ready for his enemy, and still his unknown enemy did not come. He began to fear that his hideous reputation had preceded him, scaring his foe away. Then it occurred to him that if he could find out who his enemy was, perhaps he could find and destroy his foe, possibly while he or she was weak and unready to face his mighty wrath. He cared not whether his enemy was a man, woman, or child. He made a new vow. He swore that he would find out who his enemy was, and kill him. He would seek out and destroy his enemy without mercy.  
Sitting in the lotus position, he relaxed his body, closed his eyes, and momentarily attained inner peace. When he was ready, he summoned his power, focusing his ethereal perception. He used his summoned alternate awareness to glean and unravel the veil that kept the future unseen by all but those few with extraordinary gifts. He located and followed the dark thread that represented his own life, through the tangled myriad of intersections. He noticed that it soon tangled with a silver thread, and suspected that this was the thread of his enemy's life. He continued to follow his own dark thread, complexly intertwined with the silver one, until he found that the silver one cut his own life's thread off at its very end. Then he was certain this silver thread was the thread of his enemy. The thread shined with a goodness and innocence that made him furious. He longed to yank it from the fabric of time, and rid himself of it, however, the thread was too tangled with his own. Any pressure at all might cut his own thread at the same time, or worse still, instead of the silver one. He dared not. Sneering as he followed the silver thread back to its start, he discovered the date, time, and place of his enemy's birth, July 31, 1989, 7 pm, London. He laughed as he returned to his own consciousness. His enemy was but an infant. He had no scruples about killing a child.  
Further research showed that two children were born on July 31, 1989 at 7 pm in London, one was a boy named Harry Putter, born to James and Lillyput Putter. The other was a boy named Neville Largebottom, born to Jumbo and Begonia Largebottom. Moldyfart would kill both infants.  
That night Moldyfart planned to visit two households. He attacked the Putter household first. He slaughtered James and Lillyput Putter as they tried to save their infant son, Harry. Their magic was nothing when compared to his own, they died a horrible death. Then Moldyfart picked up the infant from his crib. The baby smiled, then spit up on him. However, that was the least of Moldyfart's worries. For at that moment he discovered that his new form wasn't quite as invulnerable as the demon that had sold it to him had made it out to be. Moldyfart had a rather bad reaction to the Ivory Snow detergent that Harry's parents used to wash his footed pajamas. The pureness of the Ivory Snow was a bane to Moldyfart's impure life form. He found himself rapidly as vulnerable as he thought the infant, whom he could no longer hold in his arms, was but a moment ago. The child fell, hitting his forehead on the corner of the crib, leaving an "L"-shaped wound. Moldyfart's powers were gone, he was shriveling up like a slug on the sidewalk in the sun. Yet he could not die. "Oh, darn," he thought as he slinked away. For a very long time, he lay in a hole in the ground very close to death, wishing for death, yet unable to die. It would take years for him to recover. He renewed his vows, one day, he would kill Harry Putter, and he would never eat Chinese food again.  
And indeed, Lord Moldyfart did try several times to kill Harry Putter even when he was not at his full strength. Yet somehow his adversary had eluded his every attempt, and in some cases had even caused severe setbacks to Moldyfart's recovery. However, Moldyfart had finally managed to return to his full power a year ago, and while Harry may have proven his foot odor was a match for Moldyfart's power, stench for stench, Moldyfart had other powers that he hoped to test against his enemy soon.  
Harry knew his real enemy, Moldyfart, had only begun to fight, and would be at the crux of any conspiracy to kill him.  
  
"Well, you know how it is, Sir, sixth time's the charm! Really seventh time if you include preschool." replied Bobby, relieved that he had not been revealed the true leader of the conspiracy, and hadn't answered Harry's second question (Why are you helping him?) at all.  
"Hmmm, I think I know how to solve this problem," said Harry more to himself than to Bobby.  
"How, Sir?" inquired the elf.  
"Well, Moldyfart obviously wants me to go to school, because you are trying to convince me not to go. He knows I will not listen to you, and go to school anyway, just like I always do. And then this conspiracy of his will do me in. He probably has planted several Fungus Eaters inside Hogwashes, while I've been sitting around on my butt enjoying the summer! Now that I've figured out his little scheme, I can easily thwart it. Ha, Ha! I'm going to take a year off from school!" laughed Harry.  
Having adventures was one thing, fighting a well-planned conspiracy to kill you, well, Harry would just as soon skip that. He was happy that he would have a nice long vacation from the toil of school work as well as the inevitable danger to his person he had experienced at Hogwashes the past five years, six if you counted preschool. They really needed to get some better security over there. He would have to talk to Grumblesnore about it. Then he laughed again, he wasn't going to be seeing Grumblesnore for a year!  
He grabbed Bobby by the neck, pulled him out of the broken television, and tossed the elf out of the window.  
"Thank you, Sir," came the elf's receding voice.  
  
Abis Mall  
  
The next day Harry was to meet Ron and Hermione at the Abis Mall to go shopping for their schoolbooks and supplies. Abis Mall was a one stop shopping Mecca for wizarding needs of every kind, and carefully hidden from the eyes of muddles. There were shops for cauldrons, wands, potions and rare potion ingredients, books, specialty foods, magical items, goats and other familiars, laboratory equipment, robes, cellphones, holy grails, astrological charts and tools, and lawnmowers. There were also shops that provided wizarding services such as spells, restaurants, banking, cleaning, tailoring, real estate, lawn mower repair, and travel. Harry had gone here every year to get his school supplies, including his most important purchase, his magic wand, for a wizard is nothing without his magic wand.  
Harry had his Uncle Vermin drive him to Berlin, which was no problem, Uncle Vermin had long since come to understand the New House Order. Harry got out of the car, and went into a seemingly abandoned amusement park. It had formerly been the ill-fated experiment, Disneyland Germany. It was in a permanent state of rust. Harry jumped into a construction debris chute. The chute deposited him inside a building that looked like an abandoned warehouse from the outside. He landed in the trash dumpster, in Abis Mall, behind The Magic Ice Shop, where wizards go to get frozen in their favorite Magic Ice flavor. He was happy that he didn't get hurt, but upset at how filthy he was, covered in sticky melted ice goo, used napkins, and bugs. Ugggh, the stink was appalling. He waved his wand and spoke the magic phrase, "AAA Dry Cleaners are the best!" (Sorry about that, folks, but product placement pays the bills, you know!) He was instantly clean, fresh, and lemon-scented.  
He was a bit early so he bought a Magic Ice cone and though it was comfortable indoors, he put on the winter parka needed to eat one. He took a seat outside the shop at a table with an umbrella and waited for his friends to arrive. He glanced at the ceiling, it depicted what it was like outside, a sunny day. The illusion was perfect, he almost felt like he was outside.  
As he waited for Ron and Hermione to arrive, he thought about how he would be seeing them off at the Hogwashes Express in just two days. Which reminded him of the time he first met Ron and Hermione. He met Ron at Victoria Station while looking for the right platform, Platform ( (Pi), on his first day of school. That was nearly seven years ago, if you counted preschool. Harry wondered, if you don't count preschool, do you count the people you met in preschool? He gave up trying to figure that one out, as he wasn't much on philosophy, and since he did count preschool anyway.  
Harry had arrived at Victoria Station alone except for his new baby goat, Headbutt, and was very nervous about how to find Platform (. He was between platforms three and four, just like Hasbeen had told him, but there was no sign of Platform (.  
The wizarding community was clever in the ways it kept itself hidden from the eyes of muddles. The engineers couldn't just protect the entrance to Platform ( with an illusionary wall, or some muddle might come along, and accidentally lean against the wall, only to find out there really wasn't one. They crafted the entrance to Platform ( so that you had to concentrate on something rather specific and unlikely, in order to pass through the illusion, thus preventing the entrance from being discovered accidentally.  
As it was, only one muddle had ever found Platform (, Lewis Carroll. That was back in 1862 when Victoria Station was known as the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway or LBSCR. (Back then the wizards only used the first two decimal places to protect the entrance of Platform (. They immediately changed it to ten decimal places, and no muddle has found it since.) Lewis Carroll consequently gave up his career in mathematics, and wrote about his adventures in the strange world he uncovered. The muddles never believed him when he told them about it. That's why he created Alice to tell his stories, and called them fiction.  
Harry was nervous and decided to ask for directions how to get to Platform (. The conductor he asked, gave him one of those looks that said, don't bother me with your stupid jokes, kid, and what's with the kid, kid? That was when he very fortunately came across the entire Cheesley family. He intuitively knew right away, that there was something special about this large strange group in Victoria Station. They looked like the kind that wouldn't be heading to Liverpool, Paris, or some other normal destination. They, like Harry, were carrying an assortment of strange affects, wearing robes, and were accompanied by an entourage of strange animals, including a small herd of goats, a rat, a vulture, a goldfish, two chickens, a pig, an orangutan, and a seal pup. The whole family had nuclear orange hair that reminded Harry of the edible orange rind of Muenster cheese. The Cheesleys were special, Harry could tell right away.  
There were a half dozen Cheesleys, young and old, there to see the school-aged Cheesleys; Bill, Marsha, Jan, Cindy, Perky, Fred, George, and Ron off to school. Ron, like Harry, was starting preschool. Mrs. Cheesley instantly became the mom Harry never knew. She made him feel a lot better about his first time getting onto the elusive Platform (.  
Harry remembered Mrs. Cheesley saying, "It's as easy as pi (pie?), just divide twenty-two by seven in your head down to the tenth decimal, while you run directly into that solid looking brick wall. And try not to think about what will happen if you make a math mistake."  
After Harry had tried really hard and failed, he remembered how she had reassured him, "Don't worry about it, Luv, almost all new students take a couple of tries to get it right, and its not uncommon at all to see them with their broken noses and black eyes on the first day! They are sooo cute!" Harry made it on his next try. Ron of course made it on his first try, but he wasn't nearly as nervous as Harry.  
Harry and Ron took their seats together in the same train compartment, that's where they first met Hermione. Sometime after the Hogwashes Express had left the station, she burst into their compartment, and asked, "You haven't seen a frog anywhere, have you? A kid named Neville Largebottom is missing his. By the way, I'm Hermione Stranger."  
Ron had replied, "Oh, oh, I'm not allowed to talk to strangers!" He immediately refused to talk to Hermione, and wouldn't talk to her for half the school year. Only after he asked his mother, and got permission, did he finally start to talk to Hermione. By that time, he had a serious and well-deserved reputation for being the ultimate momma's boy.  
Harry's reverie was broken as a foreign-looking man wearing a turban walked by his table muttering something that sounded like, "Cheating scumweasel!" Harry wondered what that guy's problem was. Then a lady wearing a black robe went by and he distinctly heard her say, "Drop dead, Quibbage cheater!" She was looking at him.  
Harry could only stammer, "But, . . . But ..."  
Suddenly, two ninjas and their pet cat burst out of the windows of a nearby shop, Cutbait's Curiosities, with a crash and tinkling of broken glass. The cat hissed at Harry. One ninja was twirling nunchucks, the other drawing knives. Both had on loose black robes and masks, so that only their eyes could be seen, yet Harry had an eerie feeling that he somehow knew who it was confronting him. But who could they be? Harry didn't have time to think about it, he started fumbling with the Velcro and zipper that held his winter parka closed. He had to get to his wand quick, or in a moment, he would be dead.  
However, in a moment, Harry couldn't stop laughing. The ninja with the nunchucks accidentally whacked himself in the head with his own weapon. He fell to the ground holding his head and writhing in pain. The other ninja hesitated asking, "Ron, are you ok?"  
The voice further confirmed his suspicion, Harry asked, "Hermione, is that you?"  
Her eyes widened. "Uh, no," she replied in a much deeper voice than before. "Die Quibbage Cheater!"  
"Stop Hermione! I can explain!" And he did.  
  
A few minutes later Harry and Hermione were helping Ron into a chair and putting Magic Ice on the lump on his head. The purple ice clashed horribly with his standard Cheesley nuclear orange hair, which was always a mess. Ron was a chunky kid with freckles. His voice tended to crack frequently, and he had grown at least an inch since Harry had seen him just three months ago. Ron was quite spastic and often tripped over his own big feet. He was clearly at that awkward teenage phase.  
Hermione had a disproportionately large head. The expanse of naturally wavy strawberry-blonde hair, which she wore down to her shoulders, made her head seem even larger. She had bushy eyebrows and a noticeable mustache. Harry wondered if it would tickle if he were to ...  
Hermione interrupted his thoughts, asking, "So Harry, what are you going to do when you get to school? How will you keep everyone from killing you?"  
"Actually, I've decided something, and I'm afraid you're not going to like it," said Harry nervously. "I've, decided that I'm not going to school this year."  
He fully expected Hermione to go off on him. In the momentary silence that followed, he could hear her in his head, "Harry Putter! That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say!" Here it comes, he winced.  
"Cool! That's very practical of you Harry, just what I'd do," she smiled.  
Ron laughed, "I must have hit my head harder than I thought. I thought you just said you weren't going to school this year, and Hermione say that was for the best!"  
"You heard right," replied Harry smiling too.  
"But you have to go to school! You'll be a year behind us if you don't!" Ron argued automatically. He was a true friend and would miss Harry all year. Far worse, if Harry stayed behind, they would never have classes together again. Ron realized all this instantly, and his argument was entirely based on his emotions.  
"I'll be dead, if I do! I'm better off alive at home, than dead at school, right?" replied Harry.  
"But ... But..." Ron felt Harry was wrong, but didn't know what to say.  
  
They visited several of their favorite stores. At Til Eulenspiegel's Merry Prank Shop, Harry complained that he wished he'd be able to visit Fred and George's Magical Joke Shop in Hogsbreath. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to join the fun of the Hogsbreath visits, since he wasn't going to school. Hogsbreath was the wizarding community closest to Hogwashes. Students of Hogwashes generally enjoyed a weekend trip to Hogsbreath several times each year. There were several shops in Hogsbreath that students typically frequented on these trips. Fred and George Cheesley had dropped out of school last year in order to set up Fred and George's Magical Joke Shop in Hogsbreath, in the hopes that it would become a favorite of the students. Hermione pointed out that Harry was being ridiculous, he could certainly meet them at Hogsbreath for a visit. What else did he have to do? This put a ray of hope into all their hearts. It was instantly settled, Harry would meet them on their first weekend trip to Hogsbreath. That however, didn't keep Harry from spending all the money he would have used to buy schoolbooks for the upcoming year on all kinds of wicked joke items from Fred and George's only competitors. He bought a year's supply of dungbombs, silly string, farting underpants, ultra-burp soda, butt-enlarging crackers, fake wands, a dribble goblet of fire, ventrilo-whoopy cushions, glue-gum, and mace-squirting flowers.  
  
They decided to head to the bookstore next. As Ron glanced over his list, Harry suddenly realized that he hadn't received a booklist from school.  
"Hey! I never got mine," he said as he grabbed the booklist from Ron. "I never got a list from Hogwashes! What does that mean? Do they know I'm not coming to school?"  
"Harry," Hermione asked, "didn't you say, that you had received an official notice that school was canceled?"  
"Yeah. It had the Hogwashes seal and everything."  
"Yes, but I didn't receive one. Did you Ron?"  
"uhnt-uh," grunted Ron.  
"You see what that means, don't you?" asked Hermione.  
"That school is only canceled for Harry?" asked Ron.  
"No. It means there is someone at Hogwashes that is intercepting Harry's mail. They replaced his schoolbook list with the fake cancellation notice, before it was sealed shut. It means we need to watch what we say when we write to Harry, and Harry has to be careful what he says when he writes to us."  
"That means the conspiracy is real!" concluded Ron. "Crap! That means Harry shouldn't go to school. He'll be killed."  
"Ron, I already explained that I'm not going to school," said Harry with exasperation.  
"But I thought you were just making the whole thing up, you know, to get out of going to school," said Ron.  
  
At Pigbristle's Quill and Bookstore, Hermione held the door open for Ron and Harry. Harry suddenly saw the gleaming smile and wavy blonde hair of their old Defense Against the Fine Arts teacher, Gildersneeze Farthard, autographing his latest book. Harry instinctively ducked behind a bookshelf, pulling Ron with him so that Farthard wouldn't see them.  
Harry couldn't believe it. Gildersneeze Farthard was out of St. Mongo's Hospital for the magically afflicted. He wondered if Farthard had gotten his memory back. Farthard had a large portion of his memory wiped out during Harry's third year of school. What no one knew was that Harry and Ron were the cause. They had discovered the secret to Farthard's success. For everyone knew Farthard as a heroic adventurer. However, no one knew that Farthard was in fact stealing other people's incredible adventures for years, and was really a coward at heart. He would interview heroic individuals, wipe their memories from them, then write books about their fantastic deeds, claiming them as his own. He had become quite a celebrity in doing so. Many people referred to him as the Great Gildersneeze. It turned out that, the Great Gildersneeze was quite jealous of Harry Putter's rapidly growing popularity stemming from the boy's exciting adventures. So Farthard tried to horn in on Harry's adventures for himself. Farthard had revealed his dirty little secret and was about to wipe Harry's memory clean, when Ron, crept up on Gildersneeze, whacked him on the back of the head with a half gallon of ice cream from the Chamber of Frozen Dairy Desserts. It's not clear whether it was the blow from Ron or Farthard's subsequent knock to the head as he collapsed to the floor that ironically caused Farthard's persistent case of amnesia, his drooling problem, and the thick lisp when he spoke.  
  
Hermione cheerfully skipped up to her old teacher and sang out, "Mr. Farthart! It's so good to see you again!"  
Harry groaned and hit his head against the bookshelf several times. He thought, "How could someone so smart be so stupid!"  
Farthard's smile seemed to brighten, if that was possible, he was obviously feeling loved by another fan. "You theem vaguely familiar, child, do I know you?" he asked while wiping his lip.  
Hermione ignored the speckle that touched her face as Farthard spoke. "It's me! Hermione Stranger. I was one of your students at Hogwashes three years ago! Remember?" she asked.  
"Well, if you are a thtranger, then I guesth I'm mithtaken, but it'th alwayth nithe to meet a fan. Would you like an autograph?" replied Gildesneeze, flourishing his pen, ready to sign another book.  
Hermione disgusted, took a step back as he spoke, to avoid the shower of spittle coming from his direction. She suddenly realized that Gildersneeze probably still didn't remember much of that year at all. Of course he wouldn't remember her. She handed him a copy of his latest book, "The Ecstasy of Man-made Explosions vs. the Calamity of Natural Disaster," then retreated a step.  
"Who thhould I make this out to?" he asked.  
"Hermione Stranger," she replied, hiding her displeasure.  
"To a mythteriouth thtranger ..." he wrote as he said aloud, "Fond wistheth ... in all your egthplothive endeavorth ... Thintherely ... Gilderthneethe Farthard!" He finished his signature with a flourish.  
Hermione tried to suppress her gag reflex. She managed to just look dumbstruck.  
"Thay, ith that your required reading litht from Hogwathheth?" he asked with an appauling splatter of drool.  
"Yes, your latest book is on it. That's why I'm buying it," she replied in disgust.  
"Well then, you'll be pleathed to know that I'll be at Hogwathheth again thith year. I'll be teaching, Defenthe againtht the Fine Artth. I believe that one'th required for all thtudentth, tho I'll thee you in clasth!" he beamed.  
Harry and Ron eavesdropping from behind the bookshelf, looked at each other and screamed. Hermione shrieked.  
Gildersneeze drooled, "Do try to contain yourthelf, thweet girl."  
  
Platform ( (Pi)  
  
Harry woke up early and dressed. It was the first day of school, and Harry was going to see his friends off at the train station. He went downstairs, and was glad to see all the Dirtleys were already awake. They were obviously quite used to the New House Order. Uncle Vermin was getting ready to drive him to London. He had informed Uncle Vermin the day before of his intention to see his friends off at Victoria Station. Aunt Hachooie was there to make breakfast for the family. Dudley was shining his shoes as instructed. Harry was very pleased. He had Aunt Hachooie make him his favorite breakfast, a huge ice cream sundae.  
It, the ice cream sundae that is, started talking to Harry, "What a Delicious Morning! Don't I look tasty? But, brother, is it hot out here. If I stay out here, I'm gonna melt for sure."  
No, Harry wasn't crazy. He was a morsel-tongue, he could hear what his food was saying, and if he chose to, he could reply. It was his special talent, mysteriously conferred upon him from Moldyfart the first time they met. As Moldyfart's powers vanished, somehow this power, the ability to talk to food, was transferred to Harry. Harry wished that he had gotten a real superpower like the ability to fly, use x-ray vision, climb on walls, or perform feats of super strength. Cripes, why couldn't he be more like Spiderman? However, talking to food was better than nothing. It did have its advantages, too, he supposed, especially if you could tell when your food was lying to you. Usually food didn't know much that would be useful, but occasionally it would overhear some gossip or other information of value.  
Harry was quite used to his food talking. It no longer bothered him to eat something mid-sentence, like it used to. He found most prepared foods actually wanted you to eat them, and were more likely to tell the truth. More wholesome foods tended to beg you not to eat them, and would make up all sorts of lies to escape being severed, masticated, and decomposed by stomach acid. Food that had gone bad, always told you that they were still fresh, making it very difficult in some cases to tell the difference, until he got the knack for it.  
The ice cream sundae was in a hurry to be eaten. It was entirely prepared for consumption. Harry was equally prepared to accommodate it.  
When he was finished breakfast, he held his tummy and sighed happily. "Cripes! I'm getting fat!" he thought.  
He relaxed for a moment, recalling the faces of all the Dirtleys when he informed them that he wasn't going to school this year. "What a classic!" he laughed to himself. Their jaws were agape with looks as dumbfounded as a bunch of Republican politicians caught in a sting operation. Since then, all he got were looks of seething and loathing. The Dirtleys hated him now. They hadn't cared for him at all before the New House Order. After, they had put up with a lot of abuse from Harry, bearing all their suffering in great dislike, looking forward to him going back to school and life becoming normal for the rest of the year. His new plan had brought that idea crashing down on their heads. Now they would have to put up with this miserable New House Order forever, or at least until someone died.  
Harry suddenly wondered if he was in any danger from them. They wouldn't try to do anything to him would they? He started to worry about poison in his ice cream sundae. The sundae would have warned him if it had been poisoned, wouldn't it have? Aunt Hachooie wouldn't! Would she? She was removing a pie from the oven, but her sidelong look in his direction, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He suddenly was feeling sick to his stomach. He ran to the bathroom toilet and threw up.  
A few minutes later, he was feeling a bit better, and it was time to go. "Uncle Vermin, go start the car, I'll be right out." yelled Harry from the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, and then ran out to the waiting mini Cooper.  
  
At the train station Harry got out of the car saying, "I'll be back in fifteen, twenty minutes, can you get me a hotdog and a slurpie in the meantime?" Then he added, "Please?" His stomach was obviously feeling better, and he felt benevolent by asking politely.  
Harry followed a baggage cart to the entrance of Platform ( where he saw several students milling about trying quickly to divide twenty-two by seven, or to just remember the first ten decimal places of (, or holding their heads after slamming them into the brick wall between platform three and four. There were also several younger ones holding their noses and wailing to their mothers. Adding to the confusion were enough goats to fill a barnyard as well as other pets, familiars, and elven servants. On top of that, there was a virtual train of baggage carts. It's easy to see why the muddles would avoid that freak show.  
Harry wound his way through the chaos. Not having even the most rudimentary knowledge of mathematics, (Hogwashes doesn't teach any muddle subjects.) he was nonetheless able to attain the elusive platform on his first try. He had the first ten decimal places of ( memorized. Little did he realize he was being followed.  
Platform (, if anything, was even crazier than the scene outside. The Hogwashes Express looked like a circus train with two whole cars filled with goats and a third with a menagerie of other animals. Baggage was being loaded into baggage cars. Families were saying their last goodbyes. One baggage cart had been upset, and two men were arguing about it.  
From a distance, Harry spotted the Cheesley family's nuclear orange hair and headed that direction, to say hello to all the Cheesleys. Bill, Greg, Marsha, Jan, Cindy, the twins, Fred and George, their mother, Molly, and their father, Arthur were all there to see Ron, Ginny, and little Suzanne off to school. Perky Cheesley was notably absent. Ron was holding a gigantic squid, with tentacles wrapped around him. "Hi Ron! What's that for?" asked Harry.  
"It's my new pet! I've been raising it all summer, isn't he cute!"  
Harry made a wry face and said, "Yeah, cuddly."  
The way the squid wrapped its slimy tentacles around Ron's arms and neck, somehow reminded Harry of the brain-thing in the tank at the circus that had wrapped itself around Ron last spring. Harry wondered if Ron would ever be the same. Harry let the thought go.  
Arthur Cheesley was saying, "Sorry to hear about the conspiracy to kill you, Harry. You're doing the right thing staying home where you'll be safe."  
"That's right! I think it will be safer for everyone this way," replied Harry, trying to sound like he was doing the noble thing. Marsha, Jan, and Cindy all sighed lovingly at his words and selfless sacrifice. Harry was their hero.  
"Well, it's about time you stopped endangering the other children," scolded Mrs. Cheesley. She was still upset about the constant danger Harry kept putting her school aged children in, especially Ginny. She had long ago concluded that Ron would never amount to much. Thank God that her baby, Suzanne, wouldn't be around him as she started preschool this year.  
He was warmly greeted by all the other Cheesleys especially Ginny, who cried out, "I'm going to miss you Harry Putter!" She jumped up wrapping her arms and legs around Harry and smothered him with kisses until her father pulled her off from Harry disapprovingly.  
Little Suzanne stomped on Harry's foot, and gave him a raspberry. It was her way of showing him, how much she, too, liked him. It was her first year at Hogwashes, but she didn't seem nervous at all.  
  
Just then Hermione called from the train, "Hurry up girls, the train leaves in ten minutes! I saved you a seat Ron!" Ron blushed, embarrassed to know her. "Harry!" she shouted, "I didn't think you were going to make it."  
Harry glanced at the clock, there was indeed still ten minutes before the train departed. "Are you kidding, Hermione, I wouldn't miss this if Lord Moldyfart had me chained up in a dungeon somewhere."  
The crowd immediately went quiet, even the goats became silent. For seldom was the name Moldyfart spoken in public, and when it was it was usually at a whisper at best. Most chose to refer to him as the Fart Lord, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Smelled," Mr. Stinky, or Lord Pull-My-Finger. However, Harry didn't seem to care about the disapproving looks coming from all directions. By contrast, Ron took out a paper bag, and pulled it over his own head, wishing that he had gotten on the train already.  
"In fact," Harry continued loudly, "I wish Lord Moldyfart had tried to keep me away!"  
The crowd started to murmur at this. There were a few angry shouts. "Shut up you, twit!" and "It's that cheating git, Putter! Kill him."  
Ron whispered to Harry, "Ix nay on the Oldyfart May."  
George and Fred Cheesley were enjoying the scene immensely. If Ron was embarrassed, they were all for it. They had themselves created quite a public spectacle when they suddenly dropped out of school last year in history-making fashion.  
"How's it going Harry?" asked Fred. "Haven't seen you in months, you've got to stop by the joke shop sometime. I want you to try out our newest feature, anti-matter toothpaste. It's hilarious!"  
"Sounds great," Harry replied, "I've been meaning to visit the shop one of these days." He felt a twinge of guilt for having bought all that stuff at their competitor's joke shop. "How's the store doing?"  
"Not bad, we've held our own, and should start turning a profit with the return of the students."  
Just then, Looney Luvnoodle and Neville Largebottom arrived. Neville was a pear shaped lump of a young man, who was very forgetful, a marginal student, and suffered from chronic asthma. By contrast, Looney was a large and athletic young woman, a sharp student, and very open-minded. Her father was the owner of The Dribbler, a wizardly world tabloid that most regarded as the least newsworthy of all tabloids, considering it to be entirely fiction. Harry noticed they were holding hands as they approached him.  
"Hello, Harry," said Neville.  
"Hi Harry," said Looney.  
  
Neville Largebottom and Looney Luvnoodle were both instrumental in helping Harry last spring. Harry had been tricked. The Fungus Eaters had set him up. They leaked information to Harry of the whereabouts of his uncle, Serious Smack the Clown. Harry couldn't help fall into their trap, finding his uncle was his vulnerability, and they took full advantage of it, setting a trap for when Harry arrived at the circus. If it weren't for friends like Neville and Looney, that helped him that day, he himself might not have survived. As it turned out, his uncle wasn't so fortunate. Harry choked as the raw emotions of that day hit him suddenly with the entrance of Neville and Looney. He hadn't seen them since. Everything seemed to remind him of his lost uncle.  
  
Harry tried to compose himself, as Neville and Looney told him the good news. "We've been seeing each other all summer," Neville announced.  
Harry congratulated them with a burst of tears, and wished them well during the upcoming school year.  
Something in his tone alerted Looney, she replied, "You sound as though you're not going?"  
"I'm not," Harry sobbed. He composed himself, then explained the whole reason why he wasn't.  
  
The train whistle blew and the conductor called out for all passengers to board, it was time to say goodbye. Harry shook Ron's hand and said, "Don't forget to send me a goat every so often, to tell me how school's going!"  
"Don't forget to send me a goat every so often, to tell me how your extended summer vacation is going," laughed Ron.  
The Cheesleys all wished Ron, Ginny, and Suzanne good luck in school, and gave them hugs and kisses. A few minutes later, they were aboard, along with their baggage. Then the Cheesley family turned to Harry and said their goodbyes. They all wished him a good year off from school.  
"I wish I could stay home from school too, you lucky dog!" said Hermione from her train compartment window. "Imagine how much I would learn then!" It was true, Hermione hadn't learned anything at school the last two years, and had calculated her education to be three full years ahead of the rest of her class. She was already teaching herself post- graduate wizarding studies. She typically spent the summer educating herself, and the school year educating others.  
Mrs. Cheesley asked Harry, "Do you have a ride home?"  
"Yes," he replied, "Uncle Vermin is waiting for me out in the car."  
"A car!" Arthur and Molly Cheesley laughed at the muddle idea of driving. Then most of the Cheesleys grabbed hold of their bottle of port and instantly teleported to the Boil, that's what they called their home. Fred and George were the only Cheesleys with enough magic power to teleport without a portal key, or as those who could teleport called it, abbarate. They hastily said goodbye, worried that Harry might hit them up for some of the money they owed him. "See ya, soon." They abbarated back to their shop, leaving Harry standing alone.  
  
A moment later, as Harry turned the corner to walk up the platform stairs, a damp cloth suddenly clamped over his nose and mouth, while strong hands seized him roughly. He felt his legs collapse under him and his last sight before blacking out was of Uncle Vermin, Aunt Hachooie, and Mudley Dirtley giving each other high fives. Uncle Vermin held a rag and a bottle in his hand. Mudley had an enormous suitcase, and Aunt Hachooie was holding a slice of pie. "I thought he was on to me! Who bakes a pie at six in the morning?" laughed Aunt Hachooie.  
Harry's last thought was, "(.....pi....pie! How ingenious!"  
  
On the Hogwashes Express  
  
During the long trip to Hogwashes, Ron, Ginny, Suzanne, and Hermione shared a train compartment. Ron knew instinctively the situation was all wrong. It was against the unwritten code for a teenage boy to hang out with girls, especially sisters. Hermione's cat, Croakshanks, was nestled in her lap. Ron's pet squid, Nemoy, was squirming its ten tentacles around Ron. As students passed by their compartment, they glanced in through the window, and were obviously excited about their discovery. Ron's ears were ringing. He knew that he was going to hear comments later, and was getting in a bad mood just anticipating the ribbing he would have to face.  
The truth was, Hermione and he were friends, but the bigger truth was that they were both friends of Harry's. Could they remain friends without Harry? He knew that others would start calling Hermione his girlfriend, probably later that day. That would be embarrassing; Hermione was as big a nerd as they came. She had to hang out with Harry and Ron because the girls wouldn't accept her into their fold, not even the other girl Nerds. What's worse, how would he ever find a girlfriend, if she were around? Ron felt very self aware now that the fragile dynamic was broken. He wondered if there were any other Nerds he could hang out with, and if he started to hang out with other Nerds, would Hermione's feeling be hurt? Of course they would. He couldn't do that to her, she'd have no friends. His mood worsened as he thought about his predicament. It made him unconsciously argumentative, and he wasn't in a place where he could win arguments. Furthermore, losing argument after argument only worsened his mood, making him snappish.  
Ron and Hermione argued about anything and everything. Ron argued from the pit of his belly, entirely based on his feelings. Hermione's arguments were irrefutably based on logic. Ginny stuck a barb into Ron whenever the opportunity presented itself. Suzanne usually just laughed or inserted her own silly comments, which were mostly ignored.  
Ron tried talking about subjective topics, to avoid losing, for everyone is entitled to their opinion. However, Hermione was able to show him that his opinion was usually wrong.  
They argued about their duties as Perfects. The Perfects were the Hogwashes hall monitors. Their job was to keep the other kids from running in the hall, fighting in the hall, smoking in the halls, kissing in the halls, or starting food fights in the Great Eatery. That last one was added after the huge food fight in the Great Eatery last year. Most of the other kids referred to the Perfects as either Mr. Perfect or Ms. Perfect according to gender. Ron and Hermione were both Perfects, and did their best to set a good example to the other students, by not breaking any of the rules. Harry, of course, could never be a Perfect; he broke all the rules. Ron and Hermione could have written him up for hundreds of incidents, but never did.  
They argued about Free-Elves. Hermione had long held the opinion that Free-Elves sapped a small amount of power from their masters, and provided very little in return, especially if one was to take excellent care of their own magical equipment, which she always did. Elves were her pet peeve, especially since she was always being bothered by elves who wanted to serve her. (She had excellent magical powers.) Some elves even pretended to be in danger. They would try to trick her into "saving" their lives, thereby hoping to force their unwanted service upon her. She seemed very callous at times when an elf would be for example "drowning" in the nearby Jello, and she wouldn't even lift a spoon to save them. Ron always felt bad for them, and tried to save them, which would make them snap and growl at him, or abberate in order to avoid him all together.  
She also felt that using Elves was wrong whether they were Free-Elves or not. She felt that it would be better to pay elves for their services, if one really desired them. Three years ago, she formed the OSPREE Club, also known as the Only Stupid People Rely on Elven Exploitation Club. Even Harry and Ron didn't join that one, and they didn't even have elven servants. Heck, even the elves wouldn't join; they snubbed their noses at the idea of their noble service being paid for in coin. In reality, she would have been far happier if she just accepted a Free-Elf's service. If she did, no other Elves would bother her, and she wouldn't even notice the small difference in her magical powers.  
They especially argued about Harry not coming to school. Ron couldn't get past how much he was going to miss Harry. With Harry, school was always exciting. Being friends with Harry, who was always in the spotlight, Ron got to share a little bit of the spotlight, too. He felt special. He thought aloud, "It's like you, me, and Harry were a shiny new tricycle! Each of us one wheel."  
Hermione replied, "Well, think of us as a bicycle now! A bicycle is much smarter than a tricycle! It's more grown up. School is going to be great this year, think of all you will learn, especially without all the distractions that Harry always made. I'll bet your grades will go up considerably this year."  
Ron disagreed, "But it's not like a bicycle, it's like a tricycle without one wheel. We'll be missing an important part of what made us a great team. You were like the brains, I was the good-looking one, and Harry was ...errr, ...dynamic, you know? He was like the big wheel with the pedals on it. He made it all work."  
Ginny and Suzanne started laughing, and couldn't stop. Suzanne didn't even know why she was laughing, other than the fact that Ginny was laughing at Ron, so she should too. It was a principle between brothers and sisters.  
Ginny imitated her brother, "Look at me, I'm the good looking one!" Suzanne giggled. Ron ignored them.  
Hermione bit her tongue, "Well, I think we can still be a great team, I'm still smart and you're ....ummm....not any different. We don't need Harry to have a great year at Hogwashes. Learning is exciting enough without adding his dramatics, –OOH, look at me, the Fart Lord is after me, he wants to kill me."  
Hermione was getting annoyed with Ron; he was so immature at times. Just look at the immature garbage he had bought when the refreshment cart had come by. Chocolate slugs, Yu-Gi-Oh! cards, and Every-Witch-Way beans. It was the same crap he bought the past five years, six if you counted preschool. He had already stuffed five of the chocolate slugs in his face. Two, ok, but five? Gross. Sometimes she wished he would grow up. He didn't seem the least bit interested in girls.  
Likewise, Ron was annoyed. Hermione was practically talking badly about Harry. Some fan she was! He decided to lead her down a different path. "Well, what I really think is that his staying home is really just a cry for..."  
Just then they both turned to the door. From outside their compartment, they heard a tiny, distant, and muffled cry, "Help, Help!"  
Hermione replied, "Nonsense, Harry will be safest at home. And from what he said, he's had the best summer of his life."  
Ron retorted, "Being home, isn't like being on 'base' in a game of tag. He might be in just as much danger there, possibly more since we won't be there to..."  
"Help, Help!" the muffled cry got a little louder, causing Ron to look at the window in the train compartment door. Hermione, Ginny, and Suzanne all followed his gaze. The cry for help was getting even louder, and then Faco Maldoy crossed their window view. He was heading toward the back of the train. He appeared to be dragging something rather heavy, walking backwards as he dragged it.  
  
Faco Maldoy was the son of Luscious Maldoy, the same Luscious Maldoy who was Chairman of the Board of Education at Hogwashes, the same Luscious Maldoy who lost his Free-Elf servant Bobby, thanks to Harry. What's more, Luscious Maldoy was one of the Fungus Eaters. The Fungus Eaters were a group of evil supporters of Lord Moldyfart, and Luscious Maldoy was one of their highest-ranking members. He was the one who had conceived the plot to lure Harry to the circus where his uncle was, in order to trap him, and turn him over to Lord Moldyfart. His involvement in setting the trap last spring had compromised him. Finally, the Harry Putter Fan Club had the evidence they needed that Luscious was indeed a Fungus Eater, as they all had long suspected. More importantly, the Ministry of Magic authorities had the evidence they needed to prosecute Maldoy and the other Fungus Eaters for the murder of Serious Smack the Clown. Consequently, Luscious Maldoy, as well as a number of other identified Fungus Eaters, were on the run from the Ministry of Magic, and in hiding. They of course blamed their situation on Harry Putter.  
Faco Maldoy was of course a Popular Rich Kid. He was tall, handsome, with an athletic body, and blonde down to his brain. Faco was in the same year of school as Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and in many of their classes. He was also a Perfect, which gave him a smug satisfaction. He was one, while Harry was not.  
Harry and Faco had clashed ever since their second day of preschool, six years ago. It was "show and tell" day. While all the other kids brought in their favorite, cool, and in some cases very expensive toys, Harry had brought in his dust-bunny collection. Hermione remembered Faco's derisive words to this day, "What's the matter with you Putter? Don't you have any real toys?" She quietly kept her mold collection in her backpack, and said she had forgotten her "show and tell."  
Since then, Faco was a constant adversary of theirs, although their spats with him were minor when compared to the life and death struggles they had so far with his father and Lord Moldyfart.  
If Faco had any secret contact with his father since last spring, he was likely to know about all of the students who helped Harry defeat Faco's father and the rest of the Fungus Eaters. He would most likely attempt to exact some form of retribution as revenge on Ron, Hermione, Neville, Looney, and Ginny. He also wouldn't be alone in his efforts. He often consorted with two brainless but muscular goons, Shabby and Foil, each of whose fathers were Fungus Eaters and likewise on the run from Ministry authorities.  
  
"Oh, no, it's Maldoy!" said Ron. He was suddenly nervous; his proximity to Harry had long been the source of his safety from Maldoy and his bullies. What was he going to do without Harry around this year to protect him? He'd have to avoid confronting Faco for as long as possible, and hope that the bullies would bother someone else.  
"Help, Help!" called the muffled voice.  
"For Pete's sake! Give him a hand with the door, Ron!" said Hermione.  
"I don't see why I should, except that I won't have to look at him as long," said Ron, getting up, trying to sound like he wasn't intimidated, and failing miserably as his voice cracked.  
"Here, hold this," Ron held Nemoy out to Hermione.  
"No! NO! I mean it Ron, get that thing away from me."  
Ron sighed, went into the hallway, and held open the door for Faco as he wheeled a humongous suitcase onto the next train car. He wondered why Faco was moving his own luggage; usually the Popular Rich Kids had servants to move their luggage for them. Thank God, Shabby and Foil weren't around.  
Faco glanced at Ron and did a double take. "Ewwwww, what's that thing?"  
"Huh? Oh, you mean Nemoy? He's my pet squid," replied Ron.  
"Cheesley you are one sick freak. You better not get any of that slime on me if you know what's good for you."  
"Help, Help!" came the muffled cry from the suitcase.  
"I don't think that should be too hard."  
"I'll have Shabby and Foil rearrange your face. When they get through with you, no one will know the difference between you and that ugly octopus."  
"Yeah, nice to see you again too, Faco. You haven't lost any of your charm, I see."  
"Shut your mouth, slimeball."  
"Shut yours, ..." Ron's retort was cut short when one of Nemoy's tentacles suddenly curled into his mouth. Ron let go of the door to remove it. Faco was repulsed.  
"Uuuuuck," said Ron, wiping his tongue off on the sleeve of his robe.  
  
Ron returned to his compartment saying, "Furthermore, ... wait a sec, was that Harry's voice coming from that suitcase?"  
"Harry, here? We left him back at the station," Hermione sniffed.  
"Hermione, come quick!" shouted Ron dashing out of the compartment. Hermione was right behind him. Ginny and Suzanne in tow.  
They ran through the train cars and quickly caught up to Faco moving his large burden. "All right, Maldoy, open the suitcase!" commanded Ron, trying to sound confident.  
Faco looked up at Cheesley and his entourage, "Still hanging out with the other girls, Cheesley?"  
"I mean it, open that suitcase, now!"  
"Get lost, Cheesley, mind your own business," replied Maldoy sounding a lot more commanding than Ron.  
"Cripes, Ron, is that you?" came the muffled voice of Harry from inside the suitcase.  
"Oh my God, it is Harry!" said a shocked Hermione.  
"Hand it over, Maldoy!" shouted Ron.  
"I said, get lost, Cheesley!" Faco shouted back.  
Ron decided to go for his wand first and get the upper hand on Maldoy before Maldoy got his wand out and got the upper hand on him. "Ha HA! I've got you now, Maldoy!" he said triumphantly.  
However, Maldoy was so close to Ron in the small aisle that he reached out quickly with one hand, pinched the end of Ron's wand, and twisted it firmly upward. With a snap, the tip of the wand broke and dangled from the end of Ron's wand. Ron was too slow as he said the entire magic command, "It takes a tough man to make a tender chicken." It was too late. The sudden burst of power from the broken wand caused a flash of light, and a fizzling pop.  
Ron said, "No, OH! Wand my broke you."  
Maldoy laughed at the gibberish, "You always were a backward sort, Cheesley." But his laughing was cut short when Hermione's knee met his groin. He collapsed to the floor and started moaning like a banshee with a hangover.  
Hermione unzipped the suitcase, and a hot and sweaty Harry Putter rolled out. He was quite relieved to finally get a breath of fresh air. He stretched out his stiff legs. "Harry, what are you doing in there?" she asked.  
"?Suitcase that in get you did how" asked Ron.  
Harry looked at Ron puzzled.  
"The Dirtleys kidnapped me! They knocked me out, packed me in that suitcase, and put me in the baggage compartment. When I came to, I didn't know where I was. I couldn't reach my wand, so I called for help. Unfortunately, Maldoy found me first.  
"All after year this school to going you're like looks," said Ron.  
They all laughed, but only Ron's sounded like, "Ah, Ah, Ah!"  
  
Dieters Beware!  
  
Harry stood alone and unnoticed for a moment in the entrance to the Great Eatery. Ron had gone immediately to the hospital wing to take care of his speech impediment. Hermione had accompanied him. She explained, "Just in case Madame Pomfrite doesn't understand him when he talks."  
The students were assembling in the Great Eatery, which was decked out in banners and flags for each of the four Noble Houses at Hogwashes. The ceiling showed what it was like outside, a clear evening with stars beginning to shine, which had nothing to do with the actual weather outside, nor did it predict the weather tomorrow. The ceiling had been broken for years, and was useless as it always predicted yesterday's weather. Still it did make a nice decoration, and made the Great Eatery seem even larger than it actually was.  
The hall was lit by detached floating florescent light bulbs. A few of them flickered annoyingly. The lights cast a purplish hue on everyone's skin, making all look morbidly depressing. In some cases, it was difficult to tell the living from the dead, especially since the dead were among the living. Several phantoms, ghosts, full torso apparitions, washed-up television stars, zombies, mummies, and poltergeists were interspersed among those in attendance, intermixed with the students collectively sitting at four long rows of tables, one for each of the Houses.  
At the tables for the Athletic Jock House, students were wearing sweatpants and jerseys and busied themselves with horseplay or were talking excitedly about sport events and statistics. Peeved the Poltergeist yanked Michael Coronary's sweatpants down to his ankles unexpectedly, revealing his green briefs for all to see. Coronary yanked them back up as he turned mottled purple, flushing. Then Harry spotted Yu Rang and his heart skipped a beat. He hadn't seen her since school let out. Even in this light, he thought she looked... well, yeah, he admitted, even she looked gruesome in this light. However, hers was a wonderful kind of gruesome that made butterflies dance in his stomach.  
Meanwhile at the tables reserved for the Popular Rich Kids House students were mostly talking on cell phones, or admiring each other's taste in new designer clothes. (Cell phones were a topic of much debate among the wizarding community. The muddles had outdone them, and the wizards to their shame couldn't come up with anything that could compete with convenience, ease, and clarity of a cell phone. Hence, young wizards and witches were using cell phones everywhere these days, much to the distaste of generations of their elders.) Quite a few were catching up on the latest gossip stories from the summer. The most popular of the ghosts, the charismatic Muddy-Cruddy Baron, was telling one of his war stories to a group that had gathered around him listening fascinated. He could tell a good tale.  
At the tables for The Nerd House, students looked nervous, and a few were playing practical jokes on one another. Some were busy discussing that year's Tea Cup Tournament. Others were talking about Star Trek. Many were reading. Nearly-Earless Nick was making his friendly rounds among the Nerds, asking each about their summer. He was quite jealous of the Baron because he had such great tales to tell, and told them so well. Nick competed in his own way, for he had a wonderful personality, and was an excellent conversationalist.  
The Party Animal House students were just starting to come to life this early in the evening. Quite a few were obviously asleep. One could hear the fizz of Alka Seltzer from glasses in front of those who had hangovers from partying extremely hard on their last night of summer. Most of the Party Animals wore dark sunglasses hiding their eyes, the symbol of their noble house. Even their undead had adopted the habit of wearing dark sunglasses indoors. Cries of "DUDE!" rang out as Charlie Cartuffle approached them. Charlie was so cool. Everyone thought so. He was so at ease with his own popularity, which only contributed to his aura of coolness. Harry was inwardly jealous. He never felt at ease with his own popularity, he felt like a dork most of the time. Comparing Harry to Charlie was a lot like comparing Nearly Earless Nick to the Muddy Cruddy Baron.  
There was one other set of tables, across the front of the room, where the teachers were gathering and chatting about their summer activities, and how short the break always was. Professor Ape, the head of the Popular Rich Kids House and Poisons class teacher, was talking with Professor Snout, who taught how to find roots and truffles in the forest, that is, The Forbidden Forest of Sure Death. Gildersneeze Farthard was there too, talking with Cubious Hasbeen, the groundskeeper and manager of the Magical Creatures Petting Zoo in the back of the school. Mrs. Tickwick and Mrs. Fatfree had their heads together whispering. The centaur, Frenzy, who taught Astro-numerology stood a hoof and aloof nearby. The teachers too were not without their undead. Professor Binge, the History of Magic teacher, had died from over-eating (his stomach exploded), yet refused to give up teaching in his non-corporeal form.  
Slightly less conspicuous were the teachers that were missing. The Head of Hogwashes, Elvis Grumblesnore wasn't there yet, nor was Professor McGooglesnot, the Head of the Nerd House, nor the School Custodian, Belch. Grumblesnore most likely was waiting to make his grand entrance. McGooglesnot would be busy readying the first year students. The absence of Belch however, probably meant he had caught someone breaking a rule already, was out patrolling the dungeons for mischief-makers, or was cleaning up vomit somewhere.  
Immediately in front of the teacher's table was a stool with a big black hat on it. The Snorting Hat, which all the students were familiar with, was used on the first day of each school year. Soon Professor McGooglesnot would lead the preschool students in, and place the Snorting Hat on each of their heads. The Snorting Hat would quickly absorb the details of the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to them, and inform everyone present while make snorting sarcastic and derisive remarks. Some were fortunately quickly forgotten, while others were never to be let go. Some endured nicknames that stuck for the rest of their lives, like "Crybaby Peepants" Jones or "King Klutz" Kingly. The information was used to decide what house the person belonged in. McGooglesnot inevitably taking the students no other house would take into the Nerd House.  
  
Suddenly, the room became quiet as the gathered crowd finally noticed Harry in the entrance. Harry saw the dagger-like stares of the entire room focused on him.  
"The letters were forged! I'm not a cheater!" he yelled. The crowd booed and hissed while throwing silverware and cups at him. (Had food been served, he would have been covered with it.) He took his regular seat at the Nerds table, and kept his head down.  
A sudden fanfare split the air, and Elvis Grumblesnore performed, "I'm All Shook Up" using the teacher's table as a stage. His robe and conical hat were covered with rhinestones that winked brilliantly in the spotlight. His long white beard swooped as he gyrated his hips. As he finished singing, he slid across the table on his knees to much delighted clapping, cheering, and whistling. Elvis got up off his knees and when the cheering died down said, "I have a few words to say!"  
The cheers immediately rose again. Many of the girls were screaming. When it finally died back down, he drawled, "Thank you very much!" The room erupted in shrieks from the female students. One teacher fainted.  
"I would like to begin by welcoming this year's new students. We will then enjoy a meal together, and at the conclusion of tonight's affair, I will go over this year's House Cup Rules. So without further adieu, lets have a warm welcome for this year's crop of new students."  
Elvis led the applause as the preschool students filed in, lead by Professor McGooglesnot. She called up the first new student to be snorted, "Seymour Butz."  
  
When all the preschool children had all been sufficiently snorted at and placed in their houses, the feast commenced. Elvis clapped his hands and food appeared on golden plates as if by magic. Everyone collectively oohed and ahhed at the scrumptious looking feast. There were blast-end toot chops and applesauce, hot fairy wings, and bogglethwart alfredo, along with many fantastic side dishes. The older children waited as the new students were all given the chance to serve themselves first. Everyone had a good laugh as the first year students tried to take the food. Their hands passed right through it. As real as it all looked, it was all an elaborate illusion; none of it was real.  
After a while Elvis composed himself, wiped a tear from his eye, and stood up. "I'm sorry children, that little joke always cracks me up. At the end of the year we will hold a feast just like this, only with real food. Do not fret, you will all be fed nutritious meals until then, starting right now. Henry our head Kitchen-Elf has prepared a very nice.... ummm ...noodley meatish dish for tonight. SLOP 'EM, HENRY!"  
Several Kitchen-Elves wearing empty sacks of flour or rice wheeled a huge vat out from the service entrance. It was filled with a pasty looking casserole. Henry scooped out a baseball-sized lump from the vat and splorked it into the first child's bowl, then continued quickly up and down the tables dolling out lumps of dinner to the children. A lot of kids just started eating, others without a word of complaint ignored their dish. One preschool student looked at the gray lumps of meat in their neighbor's bowl, and said, "But I'm a vegetarian!"  
Henry, without looking at the child, slopped 'em a portion and said, "That's alright, it's not really meat," then moved to fill the next child's bowl. Henry didn't bother serving the Popular Rich Kid's table, as none of them ever ate the food he prepared. Nor did he serve the Party Animal's table, as they only used his meals to start food fights. There had been a terrible one last year. Those two houses subsisted almost entirely on delivery.  
At last, Ron and Hermione arrived. When Hermione saw that dinner had just started, she said, "Darn, I thought we might have missed it."  
Harry was one of the few who actually liked the food. It was edible, and he had subsisted on far less to eat for so long, that he quite enjoyed any food, no matter how unpalatable it was. As a matter of fact, the more unpalatable it was, the more likely there would be more for him to eat, or in some cases, more than he could eat. Friends often offered him theirs, when they just weren't hungry enough.  
Nearly Earless Nick approached Harry. "Welcome back, Mr. Putter!"  
"It's good to be back, Nick," Harry replied. "How have you been?"  
"Most fantoobulus," said Nick, "but I hear that there is a conspiracy to kill you, young man."  
At this, Harry choked. When he had recovered, he whispered, "Why, yes, I suppose there is."  
"Exciting! Tell me, do you have a plan to thwart them?"  
"Yes, I plan to stay alive," Harry said sarcastically.  
"Brilliant!" Nick shouted. "The Muddy Cruddy Baron is taking bets that you'll snuff it by the end of this year, he's offering four to one odds. I think I'll take that wager, put a bit of lifeforce on the table, if you will. Good luck to you, Harry."  
"Good luck to you, too," Harry replied. He couldn't think of a time he had said something and meant it more.  
  
When the repast was over, Grumblesnore stood once again. "Well, thank God that stupid hat didn't try to sing a song again this year, what? What?" There was a smatter of polite applause.  
"For our new students, I call your attention to this year's House Cup rules. Each year we hold a contest. The house that earns the most points wins the contest. You earn points in the following ways. Number one, by being a good student and answering questions correctly in class. Teachers will award points to the students. They can also subtract points for misbehavior in their classrooms. Two, playing quibbage. Each house's team earns points on the quibbage field, a victory in an official match will count as 25 points toward your house total. Three, by obeying the school safety rules. Our Perfects will help ensure that you do, by subtracting points from your house for misconduct in the halls. A list of all school rules is posted in each of the houses' Common Rooms. I strongly suggest you read and live them. And four, by staying out of The Forbidden Forest of Sure Death. Should any student enter The Forbidden Forest of Sure Death, not only will they surely perish, but their body will most likely be unrecoverable, and more importantly, your house will lose ten points for each member who dies without approval. Any questions?"  
One newly snorted preschool girl with flaming orange hair stood up at the Party Animal table. It was little Suzanne Cheesley.  
A murmur ran through the audience.  
"Yes?" Grumblesnore encouraged.  
"Like, what's the prize for winning?"  
"Prize? Why what prize could be greater than the pride you will feel should your house win such a coveted trophy?"  
"Oh, so, like, there's no prize then?"  
"No," Grumblesnore chewed his lip in anger, "there is no other reward."  
Suzanne sat down, and all the Party Animal's congratulated her for sticking it to the Headmaster and his stupid contest.  
Grumblesnore didn't offer to answer any further questions, saying, "I'm sure you are all tired from your long journey, and classes start tomorrow morning, so be sure to get a goodnight sleep. Goodnight, y'all."  
  
The students began exiting from the Great Eatery, only to clog the area immediately outside. Harry waited with the throngs who couldn't exit.  
  
While he waited, Yu Rang approached him with a deep wordless groan. She towered over him, the tallest girl in the school.  
"H-Hello, Yu," was all Harry could manage to say as he stared up at her, a lump in his throat.  
He felt embarrassed, and impatient to leave, but something wasn't right. "Something must have happened," he thought as he waited. Everyone was craning their necks to see what was going on outside.  
"So, did you have a good summer?" he bantered.  
Yu Rang answered with a long groan of dismay.  
Someone called for Professor McGooglesnot. She pushed her way through the congregated crowd outside the Great Eatery. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed in her wake, much to Harry's relief. He didn't know why it was so difficult to talk to a beautiful girl like Yu.  
Outside the Great Eatery was Custodian Belch. He was lying on the ground holding his stomach. Next to him was a wooden stool where a disposable pie tin rested, inside was a sole graham cracker crumb and a used fork. Immediately above him was a printed sign taped to the wall. It read:  
  
The Chamber of Cheesecakes has been opened. Dieter's beware!  
The best Cheesecakes ever made!  
Just 12 Galleys each.  
Try a sample, if you dare.  
  
Belch groaned, "OH! I can't believe I ate the whole thing! Oh! I was just going to try a bite. I read the sign. OH! 'Best cheesecake ever made' and I said to myself 'best cheesecake ever made, my foot! Grandma Belch makes the best cheesecake ever!' So, I tried it, and curse it! It's a thousand times better than me Grandmama's! Ouch! Forgive me, Grandmama! So I had some more, and then some more, and ouch, I couldn't put it down. I ate and ate until there wasn't any more left. Oh!"  
Professor McGooglesnot waved her wand and said, "Wigwamia Levi- straussa!" Belch still groaning, began to levitate, hoisted up by the seat of his pants. "Ernie Mackelroy, please push Mr. Belch to the hospital wing, and tell Nurse Pomfrite what has happened."  
She pushed her index finger on the moist graham cracker crumb. The morsel stuck to the end of her finger. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed. Then she placed the crumb in her mouth. A moan of dismay passed her lips.  
Then Professor McGooglesnot said to the crowd, "Students, I cannot emphasize strongly enough that should any of you see a similar sign or cheesecake appearing anywhere in Hogwashes, that under no circumstances should you try it. I cannot warn you strongly enough the danger you will be in should the next cheesecake be eaten in its entirety without saving a slice for yours truly. If only I could impress upon you just how much I love cheesecake! Therefore, I am willing to give five hundred points, no make that one thousand points, to the house that brings me the next sample cheesecake!"  
This announcement was followed by a huge cheer from the gathered crowd. Then, as the crowd started to disperse, it fell into many loud and excited conversations of which Harry's, Ron's, and Hermione's was just one. The students all wanted answers. What was the Chamber of Cheesecakes? Were the cheesecakes as good as Belch said? Once you started to eat one, could you stop? Or would you eat until you were laid up like Belch? Were they really worth twelve galleys each? That's quite a lot for a cheesecake! And, just who was responsible for them? Most of all, they wanted to know, where could one get one of these wonderful desserts?  
Hermione, Harry, and Ron, were excitedly asking the same questions, plus a few more. Did the Chamber of Cheesecakes have anything to do with the sinister Chamber of Frozen Dairy Deserts? Was the same insane wizard, Sloberic Slipperin, responsible for this newly opened chamber, too? Would another terrible creature be guarding this chamber as well? Which was better, the steadfast classic, strawberry cheesecake, or the more modern delight, pumpkin cheesecake? While many answers eluded them, they quickly decided that with Custodian Belch incapacitated in the hospital wing, they could search after curfew, without fear of being caught outside their rooms, to see if they could find the hidden Chamber of Cheesecakes or at the very least a sample pie.  
The Nerd House common room was abuzz with talk about cheesecake. Everyone wanted everyone else's opinion. Harry loudly told everyone who asked him, "I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunity for cheesecake for everyone, what I want is a good night sleep so I'm fresh for the first day of classes. He kept his real plans secret. After a short while, Ron, Hermione, and Harry excused themselves from the Nerd House Common Room early to go to bed.  
Then hours after curfew, Harry woke up, slipped out from under his four-poster bed, and tipped toed over to Ron's. He pulled back the drape and was momentarily surprised to see Ron's eyes open. For a moment, he thought Ron was dead, and then Ron let out a snore. He was sleeping with his eyes open.  
"Ron, you are so weird," Harry whispered as he shook his friend awake.  
  
They each quietly constructed dummies in their beds, to make it look like someone was sleeping there, should anyone peek in past the curtains of their beds. They used a couple of extra pillows and Ron's clothes straight from his trunk.  
Normally, Harry would have used his special cloak. Normally Harry would have checked his special map, the Malarky Map. However, these items were with all his other belongings back at 4 Privy Dr. But, with Belch out of the way, there was little need for caution. They simply slipped out of their room, without awakening their other two roommates, Shameonus Finnigan and Spleen Thomas.  
Ron whispered, "Wait!" He crept back in to their room, and came out carrying Nemoy, his pet squid. Ron had fished the sea creature out of its special tank. Harry was puzzled as to why anyone would want to bring a giant squid along on an exploratory search. Then again, he didn't understand why Ron wanted a squid for a pet in the first place.  
They met Hermione in the now empty Nerd House Common Room, and tiptoed outside as quietly as they could, so as not to disturb the stillness of the night.  
Harry gently closed the portrait of the two fat ladies that hid the entrance to the Nerd House. The large women remained snoring on their canvas.  
"Hello, Harry!"  
"Hi Harry!"  
"Holy Crap! What the heck are you two doing sneaking up on us like that?" jumped Harry.  
It was Ginny Cheesley and Looney Luvnoodle.  
"Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you. Getting a late start aren't you?" replied Ginny.  
"Errr, late start for what?"  
"Searching for the Chamber of Cheesecake, nearly everyone's been out combing the halls and dungeons for the past three hours. No one's found it yet though, not one pie. Though we did find an ancient Scottish burial tomb, and National Geographic wants to interview us tomorrow. A few others found some neat stuff, too. One of the Party Animals found a portal to Electric Underwear, you know, that exclusive American nightclub? Oh, and someone from the Athletic Jocks said he found a time machine and traveled back in time to visit Ancient Egypt, but we think he's lying."  
Harry stared dumbstruck.  
"Oh, well, we're beat, been up searching for hours, good luck, you three. Don't stay up too late." Ginny gave Harry a kiss full on the lips.  
  
"Gulp, goodnight," he croaked. Ginny slipped inside the Nerd House Common Room. Looney said goodbye and headed to the Locker Room, that's what everyone called the Jock Common Room, including the Jocks.  
"What was that?" asked Ron disgusted, "You got something for my little sister?"  
"What? No! I ...."  
"I'd better not see THAT ever happen again! Or else!" Ron shook his knuckles under Harry's nose. Harry didn't find it particularly scary, but decided it best not to upset Ron any further.  
"Ron, I'm as surprised as you are. I never expected Ginny to do that!"  
"What? You're blaming this on her?" Ron was starting to turn red in the face with fury.  
"Ron, Ginny likes Harry, a lot, she always has! Remember how she kissed him all over his face in the train station?" said Hermione, trying to defuse the situation.  
"What! Ginny would never do that! What are you talking about? She has a boyfriend, whatsisname."  
"She broke up with him last year! What's the matter with you Ron? Don't you ever talk to her? It turned out she was only going out with Michael Coronary because he reminded her of Harry. She accidentally even called him Harry a few times, so he broke up with her."  
"Oh," said Ron chewing his lip. "So, Harry, do you like Ginny?"  
"Oh, my god, Ron! Have you been in a cave? Harry likes Yu Rang!" said Hermione exasperated.  
"What? Ginny's not good enough for you, Harry?"  
"Ron!" Hermione yelled appalled. "You are so clueless when it comes to this stuff! There's just no getting through to you!" She grabbed Ron, and despite the fact that he was holding a huge slimy squid, gave him a kiss. Harry felt quite uncomfortable during it. His two best friends kissing, on the lips and everything, yuck! He was greatly relieved when it was over, and pleasantly surprised that Ron was more or less speechless the rest of the night.  
  
As they made their way up to the sixth floor, they passed numerous groups out searching for the Chamber of Cheesecake, too. When they passed Faco, Shabby, and Foil along with Panties Pimpleton, Faco said with venom in his voice, "Putter!"  
Had Faco caught Putter alone, he would have at the very least used his Perfect authority to deduct points from the Nerd house. Since Putter was with Ron and Hermione, they all wordlessly concluded not to bother charging points to each other's group, both casually disregarding the rules.  
Harry with equal hate in his voice replied, "Maldoy!"  
"What's with Cheesley? He looks like a zombie!"  
"He's fine," said Harry derisively.  
"Hey Cheesley, is that your girlfriend?  
Hermione replied, "Yes."  
"Not you, Big Head, I meant the octopus."  
They all laughed.  
"I'll bet he tried to use that broken wand of his again," added Faco. They all laughed and began walking away.  
"Look, I'm Ronald Cheesley, 'ack, ack, ack!'" Faco continued to amuse his goons as he continued down the hall.  
  
When they reached the sixth floor, Shameonus Finnigan and Spleen Davis ran out of a door and slammed it behind them, while yelling in fear. Shameonus's pants were ripped. His leg was bleeding.  
"What's wrong?" asked Harry, wand ready.  
Spleen said, "There's a vicious dog in there, guarding a trap door. We thought it might lead to the Chamber of Cheesecakes, but we can't get past the beast. We even tried giving it a doggy biscuit, but it was no good."  
"Well that's enough for me, I'm going to bed!" said Shameonus, as he limped away.  
  
When they were gone, Harry turned to Hermione and said, "I'll bet the Chamber of Cheesecakes IS past that guard dog. Let's take a peek, shall we?"  
"Why not?" replied Hermione. Ron's lips puckered a little.  
They cracked open the door, and peered cautiously within. Harry laughed, "It's only a poodle!" The poodle stared at them and growled a bit. Harry relaxed, and opened the door to step in.  
"Careful, Harry, poodles can have bad tempers," warned Hermione.  
"Hi Girl, don't be afraid," Harry said while slowly entering the room. Hermione held her wand ready, just in case.  
"Easy Girl," said Harry, stepping slowly toward the poodle, his empty hand held out for the dog to sniff. It bared its teeth now as it growled loudly, and Hermione was getting nervous.  
"Harry, watch out!" she yelled as the poodle launched itself at Harry's throat. "Alpo Purina Iams," but her spell missed the leaping dog.  
  
Harry put up his arm to ward off the vicious poodle. The dog latched painfully onto his wrist, and he dropped his wand.  
"Ow, you mangy mutt!"  
"Harry get outta there!"  
Harry made for the door, dragging the small canine with him. He painfully pulled his arm through the door, as the snarling dog ripped his sleeve from his robe, the seam gave way at the shoulder. Hermione wasn't too happy to see that. It was her spare robe. She had lent it to Harry, since Harry didn't have any of his own things.  
"What the...? Did you see that? That thing's from the pits of hell!" yelled Harry.  
"Your wand, Harry, you left your wand!"  
"She can have it, I'm not going back in there!"  
"Don't be an IDIOT! How are you going to defend yourself without your wand? We have to get it back."  
She opened the door a crack, the dog growled at her. She readied her wand. Then she flung the door open, and flicked her wand saying, "Fetch!" As the poodle sprinted across the room after her wand, she sprang through the open door, diving for the wand Harry had dropped. She quickly somersaulted to her feet, and ran back to the door. She almost made it through in time, but the angry canine latched onto her pant leg. She balanced on one foot, trying to kick at the dog and pull her leg out the door at the same time. She pulled her leg out of the room with a tearing sound. The poodle thrashed the torn piece of her pant leg. Then she closed the door and leaned back against it sucking wind. "Phwew! I got it, Harry! Now at least you'll have your wand. I'll have to get another as soon as I can."  
Harry gave her a look of confusion, "Hermione, have you lost your marbles?"  
"What? It was a sacrifice, my wand for yours. You need yours more than I do. At least now you'll be able to defend yourself against all those people who want you dead."  
"Let me show you the non-muddle method," said Harry as he shooed her away from the door. He opened it a crack, just like Hermione had done a moment before. The dog was ready, but couldn't reach Harry through the small crack. Harry spoke the summoning charm, "Aamco Premium Gasoline wand!" The wand shot off the floor of the room and landed in Harry's empty hand with a satisfying smack. He closed the door and handed Hermione her wand.  
Hermione slapped her forehead, "I'm such an IDIOT!"  
Ron stood there holding Nemoy. His lips puckered a little.  
  
When Harry and Ron arrived back in their room, Harry noticed the torn curtain on his four-poster bed. The dummy he had constructed was slashed apart. Someone had tried to kill him. 


End file.
